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ticklishraspberries · 2 months ago

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Stubborn (Achilles/Patroclus)

Summary: Achilles has always been stubborn and prideful. Patroclus sees an opportunity to make the best of the Greeks give in, and takes it happily. (I just re-read this book the other day and was struck with the urge to write a fic for it. I know I haven't written in a while, and I haven't written for this fandom in years, so please be gentle, lmfao. I hope you enjoy!!)

Achilles is stubborn.

Patroclus knows this, has always known this, because he has never known Achilles to be anything but stubborn. For a child with such a weight on his shoulders, a prophecy on his head, the blood of the gods running through his veins — well, who can blame him?

If Achilles sets his mind to something, he will do it. Whether that be mastering the use of a spear, juggling figs, playing the lyre, or breaking through all of Patroclus’s walls, Achilles will do it, can do it.

It’s normally a positive trait, that determination. But in a young boy, it can get annoying quite fast. And Patroclus never usually finds Achilles annoying: He’s in awe of him, smitten by him, happily attached to his hip. But Patroclus is only human, after all, and there is only so much teasing one boy can take before he has to seek some sort of revenge.

Achilles has known that Patroclus is ticklish for years, one of the early discoveries that had brought them closer together. However, in all that time, Patroclus has never gotten the upper hand on Achilles, which is just entirely unfair.

“I’m not ticklish,” Achilles had said. It was a sunny afternoon on the grounds of his father’s palace. “I never have been, even when I was small.”

Patroclus bites back the urge to argue that he is still quite small. “Everyone says they aren’t ticklish, to stop others from trying.”

“You didn’t lie,” Achilles replied with a smirk.

Patroclus felt his face flush. “I knew you would try anyway. Lying would have done me no good.”

“I guess that’s true. Well, you don’t have to bother trying. I’ll just get you back twice as bad.”

What should have been a threat had not deterred him in the slightest, though, and Patroclus had tears of mirth streaked down his face within minutes.

It didn’t stop him from trying again, but Achilles was always one step ahead. He always saw it coming, and always grabbed at the offending hands before they even made contact, and smirked before pinning Patroclus to the grass or the mattress and tickling him half to tears for daring to try and tickle the best of the Greeks.

However, here, in Chiron’s cave, the morning is quiet and still. The centaur is off fetching something to fix a meal, and Achilles is asleep beside Patroclus, unclothed and lying in a particularly vulnerable position, one arm tucked beneath his head of golden hair. Patroclus isn’t sure what compels him to do it then, to ruin the peaceful moment, or why tickling Achilles is even at the forefront of his mind: They’re older now, and this is surely something childish, but the chance to startle a laugh from the other boy has never felt stronger.

Patroclus cuddles close to his side, stroking the hair from his face. Achilles barely stirs, only gives a pleasant hum in his sleep. It’s probably cruel to pull him from such a peaceful slumber, but he doesn’t care. How many mornings had Achilles jumped onto his bed at sunrise, pushing bony knees into his sides and shaking his shoulders, pressing their faces close and loudly announcing the break of a new day?

Maybe Achilles deserves a morning of ruined rest, too.

Patroclus doesn’t quite know where to start. In the past, he’s always tried the obvious places: Stomach, sides, feet. Achilles has never reacted in the expected ways, never cracking a smile or squirming away. Perhaps there’s another spot he can try?

His hand still lingers by Achilles’ face, and he brings it slowly towards his collarbone, his touch featherlight as it traces the curve there before moving up to stroke the side of his neck.

He’s surprised when Achilles twitches in his sleep, his brow furrowing and his shoulder shrugging upwards. This only encourages him further, bringing his other hand to Achilles’ ribs and repeating the same motion.

Achilles makes a noise somewhere between a giggle and a groan as he seems to slowly awaken, his arms lazily moving to push at Patroclus. He rolls over onto his side and tugs the sheet, trying to cover his body, but Patroclus pushes it away and scoots closer, throwing an arm over his waist and pulling his back flush against his own chest.

“I thought you said you weren’t ticklish,” he mutters in Achilles’ ear, making sure his lips brush against the shell of it.

Achilles shivers. “No one but you has ever really tried.”

“So, you admit it then? You are ticklish?” Patroclus asks, grinning. He’s tickling his belly with both hands now, hugging him around his middle so he can’t squirm away. Even with all his strength and stamina, Achilles is still tired and caught off guard, and his body is weak to resist as the soft laughter comes in waves.

Still, he says, “I don’t admit anything.” The sentence carries much less weight when it’s said between laughs, though.

Patroclus shouldn’t be surprised by this. Like he’s said, Achilles is stubborn. For someone who says he hates to lie, he omits the truth and dances around topics like this, to uphold both his integrity and his dignity. It’s quite endearing to watch, honestly.

Patroclus chuckles. “Of course you don’t,” he says.

In an obvious attempt to distract him from the tickling, Achilles flips over and presses their lips together, and Patroclus can’t help but kiss back. However, he’s not going to give in so easily.

He runs his fingers along Achilles’ lower back, up his spine, over his shoulder blades, the touch light and teasing, and he feels goosebumps rising over the skin. While soft touches like this usually tickle Patroclus, he knows Achilles will find them soothing, even sensual. Luring him into a false sense of security will help him regain that element of surprise.

It’s funny, how strategically Patroclus is thinking about something so obsolete. He plans like a war general whose enemy is the ego of his lover, and his attack is to send a fleet of tickling fingers to his weakest spots.

As they kiss, Patroclus grabs onto Achilles’ sides and squeezes them roughly, and a startled laugh falls from the half-god’s lips, his body shrinking away.

“Admit that you’re ticklish,” Patroclus says in a voice so unlike his usual tone, deeper and more commanding. There’s still plenty of mischief dancing behind it, though.

“Never,” Achilles grits out.

“Then I’ll never stop,” he replies. He figures there are worse things to fill his days with. Touching Achilles, hearing his laughter. It would be a quite fulfilling existence if you asked him.

He explores bits of sensitive flesh, but no spot seems to get a greater reaction than the crease where his thighs meet the sacred place between his legs. Pressing the pads of his fingers there actually makes Achilles whimper, and the sound is dizzying.

“Okay, okay,” he finally pants. “I’m ticklish!”

Patroclus stops instantly, rewarding Achilles for his good behavior. He presses a kiss to his sweaty temple, pushes back that golden hair once again.

“That’s what I thought.”

Breathless but smiling helplessly, Achilles nudges him in the ribs with his elbow. It’s rare to see him admit defeat, but it’s a beautiful sight. His flushed skin, his laughter lines.

Stubborn is an accurate way to describe Achilles, yes, but Patroclus will always mention his beauty first. Heroes are usually remembered for their fatal flaw, but Patroclus will always know him for the good things: The golden hair that cascades down his back like a waterfall. His determination, his resilience, his kindness. His laughter. The fact that even with godly blood in his veins, Achilles is just a boy, who juggles figs and is ticklish.

This, and this, and this. The good, the beautiful things.

#the song of achilles #patrochilles #achilles x patroclus #tsoa tickle fic #tsoa ticklefic #tsoa tickling #the song of achilles tickle fic #the song of achilles ticklefic #the song of achilles tickling #tickle fic #ticklefic #tickling fic #raspberry writes

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endless-summer-soldier · 1 year ago

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rub down

pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

summary: after returning home from a tough mission, all you want is to relax and Bucky makes that so easy for you

warnings: 18+ only, smut, heavy foreplay, oral sex

word count: 1.8k

a/n: this is an old draft that I never finished and finally found the time to close it out. not my best writing and little to no plot, but it scratches a certain itch ;)

taglist: @sebsgirl71479 @theroyalmanatee @ozwriterchick @drewsuncrustables @lokidokieokie @nats-whore @m4nulup1n @arcanebabe @tanyaspartak @jackiehollanderr @princezzjasmine @pono-pura-vida @mavrellover91 @helluvapimp @almosttoopizza @esposadomd @charmedbysarge @zannemes @blackwood-bodecker-housewife

The minute you stepped into your room, you fell into bed. You mustered up all your remaining energy to strip off your sweat-soaked suit. Before your eyes completely glazed over, you took one final glance at your phone. 4:27 AM. You knew he wouldn’t be awake, but you sent him a quick text: home.

“Rise and shine, gorgeous,” Bucky called, in an effort to wake you up. He was peppering kisses up your neck to your jaw and cheek.

“Mmm...morning,” you whispered, melting into Bucky’s arms. “I missed you,” you added.

“I missed you too, baby,” he replied, planting another kiss on your cheek. “How was the mission?”

You turned in his arms so that you were facing him. You forgot how it felt to be under his sparkling gaze.

“It went well. We ambushed them pretty good, but we were outnumbered so it took a little longer to take the place down.”

“How do you feel?”

“Good. A couple nicks and bruises, but nothing major. I’m just...exhausted.”

“I bet. I saw what time you got in last night. Sorry I couldn’t stay up for ya.”

“Oh it's fine. I didn’t expect you to.”

“So, what should we do today?”

“Mm...I just want to relax. Can we do nothing today?”

“I'd love to do nothing with you,” he gushed. You giggled and gave him a quick peck on the lips. “I’m gonna go for a run but how about you come over once you’re done with breakfast," he offered.

“And we can relax?” you asked.

“Absolutely.” He kissed your forehead and rolled out of bed as you curled back up into the sheets.

You snoozed for another hour or so before slowly making your way out of bed. You took a long, hot shower and dressed in a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt.

Once in the kitchen, you fixed yourself some breakfast and a cup of coffee. You sat on the balcony as you ate, paging through your latest novel and slowly sipping from your large mug of coffee. It was nice not having to think about anything. That was one of your favorite parts of coming home after a mission, along with sleeping in your own bed with Bucky. You finished up the chapter you were on and retired inside. You figured Bucky would be back from his run and you wanted to spend the rest of the day with him.

You knocked twice on his door and he quickly responded with, “Come on in, darling.”

The lighting was dim and there were several candles lit around the room.

“What’s all this?” you inquired with a tone of surprise.

“Just wanted to do something special for you,” he said, pressing a kiss on your cheek. It was then you noticed the massage table set up in the middle of the room.

“You didn’t have to do all this. I would’ve been perfectly happy just snuggling and watching Netflix.”

“I know you would’ve. And that’s why you deserve this.”

“Thank you,” you placed a gentle hand on his jaw and stood on your tiptoes to plant a kiss on his lips.

“Now make yourself comfortable, I’ll come back in about ten minutes.”

You stripped down completely, placing your clothes together in a tiny pile. You tied your hair into a top knot and crawled onto the massage table, placing your head face down in the headrest and pulling the sheet over your bare back. You closed your eyes and took a few deep inhalations to start relaxing your mind. The door opened and then shut quietly, as gentle footsteps neared you. Suddenly the sound of water flowing downstream was softly playing in the background.

“How’s the temperature?” Bucky asked, referring to the heated massage table.

“Perfect.” You noticed the faintest scent of peppermint as you heard the sound of strong, oiled hands rubbing together.

You could sense Bucky standing by your head. “Now I want you to clear your mind and just relax. Take a deep breath in,” he instructed. You followed his command and as you exhaled, his slick hands made contact with your back. He firmly pressed his hands down your shoulders to your tailbone and repeated the motion. You unconsciously released a sigh, enjoying the pressure and the dichotomy between his warm, flesh hand and his cold, vibranium one. He continued his motion, up and down your back, digging the heels of his hands in a little more with each stroke.

“You’re so tense, baby.” He was right of course. You’d been running on the minimum amount of sleep and thought of nothing but your mission for the past few weeks. Tense didn’t even begin to cover it.

“We’ll work out all these knots. Don’t you worry.” Bucky shifted his attention to the tension in your shoulder blades. You weren’t sure where he learned this technique but he had mastered it. He would start with his right hand, lightly rubbing and warming up the affected area. Then he would increase the pressure with his metal fingers to break up the knots. You expected it to be painful, but it wasn’t. His touch was magic; it melted all your stress away.

“If you ever want to retire from the Avengers, you’d make an incredible masseuse,” you commented.

He chuckled, “I don’t know about that. I’m only interested in having one client. These hands are all yours.”

“Mmm…” was all you could muster in return. He completed a few more circuits up and down your back and all your knots had disappeared. Bucky laid a hot, damp towel over your back and pressed down a few times.

Just when you thought he was finished, he pulled up the sheet to expose your right leg. He applied more oil and slid his slick hands from your ankle up to your hamstring. He moved back down and focused his attention on your foot. He dug his thumbs into your arches and you couldn’t help but let out a little squeal.

“That tickle?” he smiled.

“Just a little,” you said, holding back your laughter the best you could. Bucky finished on your foot and moved to your calf. Your legs were sore from near constant activity the past few weeks and his magic fingers carefully soothed all your soreness. He continued up your leg to massage your hamstring and repeated the process on your left leg. When he finished, he removed the towel from your back and lifted the sheet up towards your shoulders.

“Flip over for me.”

You followed his direction and he tucked the sheet under your arms, covering your chest. He placed a pillow under your knees and moved back down to your feet, focusing his attention on your quads. You should have realized your arousal sooner. But it wasn’t until Bucky ran his vibranium hand up your leg, stopping just short of your box that you realized you were getting wet. He continued the motion, massaging your quads and gently caressing your inner thighs. You kept waiting for him to progress, to touch you where you so badly wanted to be touched. But he didn’t. You considered grabbing his hand and directing it to your folds, but before you could make a move he shifted his position and was standing near your torso. He took your right arm in his hands and started massaging your forearm and then your bicep. He took your hand and massaged your palm and fingers with his vibranium hand. He moved to the other side of the table and did the same with your left arm.

When he finished, he carefully placed your arm down at your side and stood at your head. He took your messy bun in his hands and said, “Can I take this out?” You nodded at him and he carefully pulled out your scrunchie, careful not to pull any of your hair. He immersed his fingertips in your hair, lightly scratching your scalp in a circular motion. It felt amazing and you let out a sigh without realizing. He moved his fingers down to the base of your skull and rubbed to alleviate some of the tension.

Then he moved his skilled fingers to your neck, rubbing small circles down to your shoulders. He ran his hands under your shoulder blades and slowly clawed them out from underneath you. Then his big hands ran down your collarbone toward your chest. He massaged your pecs and slowly moved toward your breasts. You could tell your nipples were getting hard in anticipation and all you wanted was to feel relief. His hands circled your breasts and just when you thought he was going to give in, he pulled away. You let out a deep exhale, wondering how much longer he was going to tease you like this.

He had to know the effect he was having on you. It had to have been intentional. Was he going to make you beg? Did he want you to ask for him? He moved back down toward your feet and pulled the sheet up around your hip. He once again worked his way up your leg, carefully massaging your upper thigh. You almost lost it when his vibranium fingers brushed against your labia. You let out a sharp exhale and said, “Bucky…”

“Oh you like that?” he purrs. “You’ve been so patient for me.” You propped yourself up on your elbows and looked at him.

“You want me to keep going?” he asked. All you could do was nod your head. He ran his fingers up and down your entrance before paying special attention to your clit. You inhaled sharply and laid back on the bed as he continued his handy work. You were in a fog of relaxation and pleasure as he continued to pump his fingers in and out of your entrance. His bionic fingers knew exactly what they were doing and found your G-spot effortlessly, pushing you to the edge of your orgasm.

But before you could finish, he withdrew his hand and replaced it with his mouth. He devoured your cunt, lapping up your moisture and regularly swirling his tongue around your clit. By now, your left arm was hooked behind your head and your back was arching, unable to handle any further sensation.

“Be a good girl and cum for me, baby,” he whispered, and you immediately unfolded on the table. An unconscious moan left your lips and Bucky re-inserted his fingers into you while continuing to massage your clit with his tongue.

“Oh Buck,” you sighed, coming down from your natural high. Bucky finished up his task and greedily licked his lips, savoring every last drop he could. He collected a damp towel and carefully cleaned you up, treating you like the VIP you were. Once he tossed the used towel aside, you waved him toward you. When he reached your head, you sat up and outstretched an arm toward his face.

You placed a hand on his jaw and said, “That was incredible. Thank you.” You pulled him close and shared your gratitude with your lips.

He merely gave you a smile back and said, “Oh it's not over yet.” You cocked your head at him, awaiting further explanation, when he said, “I’m running us a bubble bath.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfic

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yelena-bellova · 1 year ago

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Heartfirst: A Ted Lasso Story - Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Fifteen: Wembley

Plot: After a devastating blow is dealt to Y/n and Keeley, Jamie invites Y/n to join him for his England debut.

Word Count: 6.4k

Warning: f!reader, language, alcohol, allusion to smut

A/N: GUYS WE HAVE ARRIVED. I had to take an unexpected month break because I was just burning out. Thanks to all of you for staying patient and being so kind. But y’all, I’ve been looking forward to this chapter for a long time. I won’t say too much or else I’ll say everything so relax, sit back, and enjoy 💖

——————

Y/n wasn’t sat at her desk refreshing her inbox every fifteen seconds.

Absolutely not.

She wasn’t.

Except she was.

She knew full well that Ted had the list of which Greyhounds would be playing during international break. She could pop downstairs and probably hear the announcement. But it wasn’t her place to barge in on the boys’ moment. And that was fine with her. Totally fine.

“Come on, come on, come on,” she mumbled, waiting for the league’s PR department to end her suffering.

Finally, it arrived.

Y/n leaned closer to her laptop screen and flew past the pleasantries. The names…

She exclaimed something between a gasp and a scream.

Without another thought, she leapt out of her chair, flew through the hall and down the stairs. Luckily, the team was just heading out for practice.

“Let’s go, Greyhounds!” Y/n cheered, an echoing chorus following.

She hugged and congratulated Colin, Dani, Van Damme and Bumbercatch, all of them giddily accepting her thanks. Y/n had a new appreciation for each of the Greyhounds after observing so many training sessions. They put their hearts and soul into their craft and deserved every bit of their success.

As the boys headed out to the pitch, Y/n stayed in the hall, waiting for one player in particular to emerge.

Finally, Jamie came out of the locker room nearly bursting with joy.

As if she could feel the air change, Y/n spun around, grinning. The two of them collided in a crushing embrace, Jamie lifted her off the ground.

“Oh my gosh,” she squealed into his shoulder, “Congratulations.”

“Thank you,” Jamie said. He’d taken an extra long minute fixing himself for training. He’d heard Y/n’s voice in the hall congratulating the lads and wanted to share his own moment with her away from everyone else.

He finally set her down, giving Y/n the chance to properly face him. “Jamie,” she bounced a little, gripping his shoulders, “England. Fucking England.”

Jamie laughed, still holding onto her hips.

“Fucking England,” she said once more, looking him over proudly, “This is amazing.”

They stood there, inches away from being back in each other’s arms, til Ted and Beard’s distant voices grew closer. They dropped their hands just as the coaches came out of their office.

“Hey, Y/n,” Ted greeted as he walked past. Beard nodded.

“Hey,” she smiled.

Jamie shot her an apologetic look as he trailed after them, wishing nothing more than to stay in the hall, just the two of them. Y/n smiled at him once more, sending him off with something he could hold to the rest of the day.

A 10-game streak, a stacked international break…somewhere months ago, Y/n would have been waiting for the other shoe to drop. A plane to fall out of the sky. Some natural disaster to hit.

No, all was well. And it felt damn good.

—————————

It all came crashing down a few days later.

Keeley and Y/n had met for a morning coffee before work. Keeley was back to her normal self, post-leak and post-Jack. Y/n was glad for it, the universe felt unbalanced if Keeley wasn’t her usual sunshiny self.

At the KJPR office, they waited for the elevator. Once it arrived, a casually dressed man pushed a dolly of boxes past them.

“Didn’t know anyone was moving out,” Y/n commented as they got in the car.

“Me neither,” Keeley replied.

The doors opened on their floor and they exited, coming around the corner only to nearly get clipped by two movers with a couch.

“Shit!” Keeley exclaimed, grabbing Y/n’s arm as they jumped out of the way.

Y/n eyed the rest of the room. All the desks were covered in boxes and most of their furniture had disappeared.

“Keeley…” she said lowly.

Dan, a man Y/n had only met properly once or twice, walked up to them. He was carrying a box of desk supplies in both hands.

“Keeley,” he addressed, “You are the nicest boss I’ve ever had.”

“Thank you, Dan,” Keeley replied, brows knitted in confusion.

“And definitely the hottest,” he finished.

“That’s a complicated compliment.”

Dan left with a thanks, moving past the two women.

“What…” Y/n trailed off.

Keeley led them to Barbara’s office, who was also packing up her desk.

“Barbara, what’s going on?” Keeley asked, “Are we being slowly robbed?”

“Oh,” Barbara ceased her packing, “Wait, I’m sorry. You haven’t spoken with Jack?”

“I haven’t heard from Jack in weeks.”

Barbara stammered, “But she emailed me last night to say that she was gonna reach out and tell you.”

Y/n’s stomach clenched with familiar dread.

“Tell me what, Barbara?” Keeley asked.

Barbara, for all the grief she’d given Keeley, didn’t appear to take any pleasure in delivering the news. She had to steady herself even. “The board of the VC have decided to pull funding. They’re shutting down KJPR.”

Y/n’s breath left her chest.

“What?” Keeley whispered, “When?”

“Oh, well, don’t worry, we’ve got plenty of time,” Barbara reassured, “We don’t have to be out till Friday.”

Keeley was barely audible, “It’s Wednesday.”

Barbara faltered, “Yeah, I suppose that is…quite soon, isn’t it? Especially if you didn’t get an email last night.”

When there was nothing else to say, Barbara awkwardly went back to packing her things, leaving Keeley and Y/n dumbstruck.

Somehow, Y/n made her feet move out of the office and into the main space. Her head was spinning. It had taken less than a minute to crack her world open and split it in two.

“I need a minute,” Keeley mumbled.

Too stunned to reply, Y/n wandered off into the conference room. The table and chairs were still there, she sunk into one of them.

As one of the employees, Y/n should have gotten an email like anyone else. The only factor that could have changed that was Keeley. Jack knew they worked closely together, they could be considered friends. If this was revenge on Keeley for their break-up, Jack wouldn’t hesitate to take it out on those closest to her ex. And just like that…Y/n became collateral damage.

She rested her elbows on the table, running her hands over her face. The first job she’d ever loved, and it was gone. Every part of working for AFC Richmond that she adored, had just been taken from her. No more training, no more time with the fans, no more overseeing pressers and interviews, no more coming down the hall and seeing the boys…

The tears came quick.

A few moments later, Keeley knocked on the door and entered at Y/n’s mumbled ‘yeah.’ Both women had wet eyes and snot under their noses.

“I’m so sorry,” Keeley managed over the lump in her throat.

Y/n sniffled, her hands covering most of her face. If she was being honest, there was a small part of her that resented Keeley. Never get involved with someone from work, that was corporate 101.

“Me too,” she replied. Regardless of her bad judgement, Keeley hadn’t deserved to lose the company. She wasn’t the one at fault.

Keeley took the chair next to Y/n’s, feeling like a stray tree in the wind. Swaying, ready to break at the slightest gust.

The very thought of what had to be said sent a stabbing pain through Y/n’s gut.

“I’ll, uh, I’ll pack up my things this weekend. At Richmond.”

Keeley didn’t think she could handle any more, but knowing that Y/n was losing the place that made her happiest just worsened the blow.

“Thank you,” Y/n whispered, “For…coming up to me in that bar.”

It was that sentiment that sent Keeley back over the edge, the gentle sobs returning. On cue, Y/n’s followed and the two of them twisted to grip each other’s hands, sitting knee to knee. They mourned all they had built, together and apart.

—————————

Eight months after her last sacking, Y/n was in the exact same position: sat at a bar, drinking a glass of red wine.

This time, the bar was her flat. Being anywhere around people sounded horrifying. She was content to wallow in the apartment she already feared she’d have to give up.

Unlike the other times she’d been let go, Y/n couldn’t bear to think about the next steps. The minute she’d told Keeley she’d get her things from Nelson Road, she’d banished the thought. She couldn’t bear the thought, the pain of telling the boys, Rebecca, Ted…of leaving the parking lot for the last time. Every time her mind began to try and think practically, she took another sip of the merlot.

The depressing silence was broken up by a ring of her doorbell. Y/n let her head drop as she dragged herself off the barstool. She couldn’t come up with the name of a single person she wanted to see at the moment.

Trudging down the last of the stairs, she looked through the peephole, seeing a familiar mop of mussed up hair and sharp cheekbones.

Y/n quickly wiped under her eyes, praying her waterproof mascara had done its job. If she wasn’t ready to tell anyone the news, Jamie was in a category of his own. The thought of not seeing him every day was crippling.

She opened the door, Jamie flashing a smile as soon as he laid eyes on her.

“Hey,” Y/n grinned thickly, “I thought you were supposed to be up in Stafford.”

“Yeah, just got back,” Jamie glanced back to the street where his car was parked.

“How was it?”

“Fucking,” Jamie shut his eyes, still beaming, “Mental.”

Y/n genuinely chuckled. At least one of them was doing well. “That’s great.”

“Yeah,” Jamie finally got a good look at Y/n. Her face was drawn, despite her smile. Her eyes were bloodshot and puffy, and her gaze was distant, despite being zeroed in on him. “You alright?”

Y/n thinned her lips in an exaggerated frown and shrugged, “Yeah, fine.”

Jamie wasn’t convinced, “You sure?”

Clearly months out of practice from hiding her feelings had left her skills dulled. Y/n sighed, leaning up against the doorframe, “It’s just been a long fucking day.”

“What happened?” Jamie’s brows knitted in worry.

“Nothing specific,” Y/n lied straight through her teeth, “Just tired.”

Jamie nodded, slightly assured that he could move onto the reason for his visit.

“Well, hey, I think I can cheer you up,” he took a breath as if preparing for something big. “Come with me to the match.”

Y/n tilted her head, “What?”

“The Wembley match. They’re puttin’ us up in a hotel tomorrow night, and the game’s on Friday,” Jamie explained, hope glistening in his eyes, “Come with me.”

If they were discussing some random away game, Y/n wouldn’t have thought anything of it. But this…this was England. This was something Jamie had dreamed of since he was a child. This meant everything to him, and he wanted her to share it with him. Y/n didn’t take a word of it lightly.

“I can get ya an extra room,” Jamie took her stunned silence as doubt, “I’ll tell ‘em I need my publicist with me.”

“I don’t think being the club’s publicist gets me that kind of privilege,” Y/n tried to ignore the ache in her chest. That title didn’t belong to her anymore.

“Does if you’re with me,” Jamie smirked.

Y/n chortled, “Right. I’m rolling with the big dogs. Forgot.”

“Look,” Jamie took a step closer, his hands resting in the space between them, nearly reaching out to her. “I really want you there. Really.”

There was a softness to Jamie’s stare that he always saved for Y/n, and a determination he wore any time he stepped on the pitch. If she didn’t want to come, he wouldn’t force her, but he wasn’t going down without fighting his hardest.

Y/n really had no reason to say no. She wouldn’t be at work, she had no commitments…and honestly, getting away sounded nice. To step outside of Richmond for a little while and get some distance before she had to deal with the reality of her situation. And more than anything, she wanted to cheer on Jamie.

“Okay.”

Jamie’s brows shot up, “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Y/n smiled, her first true one of their conversation.

“Great,” Jamie grinned and fiddled with his hands, “Okay, uh, I’ll pick you up tomorrow, 12-ish. Drive over together.”

“I mean, I can drive myself,” Y/n replied, “You don’t need to be picking me up with everything you’ll have going on.”

Jamie shrugged, “I know.” There was no discussion to be had.

“Okay,” Y/n conceded, “I’ll be ready.”

“Okay,” Jamie smiled, awkwardly holding the silence. He didn’t want to let the conversation end, but there was nothing left to say. “Well, uh, I’ll let you get back to your night.”

“Go,” Y/n gestured to the street, “Rest. You’re only representing the whole country.”

He laughed, walking backwards to steal one last glance at Y/n. If someone would have told Jamie that eight months before, his ex-girlfriend’s new hire would end up meaning enough to him to share his England debut with, he wasn’t sure what he’d have thought. But he wouldn’t have believed it. “See ya.”

Y/n gave a small wave, matching his warm smile until the distance forced them to break. She was still neck deep in shit, but for a moment, the sun felt like it was shining.

—————————

Y/n supposed as she packed her overnight bag, that if she forgot anything important, she could just Uber back to her flat. For whatever reason, she was afraid she was leaving something off the list.

The initial excitement she’d felt when Jamie had invited her had long since died. It seemed the depression that set in after losing your job took twenty four hours of fermenting to truly come to life.

She was nearly done packing when she was sorting through a drawer of t-shirts, spotting a brightly colored blue and red one she had tucked at the bottom. She pulled it out and unfolded it.

The jersey Jamie had gifted her for Christmas.

A small smile pulled at her face, remembering the night he’d given it to her. True to her word, she hadn’t worn it to any matches. She couldn’t possibly give him that satisfaction.

Through the insanity that was working at AFC Richmond, there had been many constants. Ted’s awful jokes, Roy’s sour mood, weekly tea with Rebecca…but Jamie had l become the most unexpectedly steady thing in Y/n’s life. A safe place to land in any situation. If it wasn’t for Jamie, she wasn’t sure how she would have made it thus far.

She smiled.

Without a second thought, Y/n folded the jersey back up and tucked it in her suitcase. Jamie was the focus, and she’d amplify his joy however she could.

Her phone pinged with a text alert, the man himself messaging her that he was parked outside. Y/n zipped up her bag, grabbed her purse, and headed downstairs.

Jamie was propped against his car, spinning the keys in his fingers. He supposed he should have felt nervous, twenty four hours away from his England debut, but he felt at peace. He wasn’t entirely sure why until he spotted Y/n’s figure coming down her street.

“Jamie Tartt, do do do do do do,” she sang once she got close enough, “Jamie Tartt, do do do do do do…”

“Lovely,” Jamie chuckled before reaching out for her bag, “Let’s have it.”

“There’d better be room for it,” Y/n handed the suitcase over.

Jamie popped the boot, “How much you think I travel with?”

“I mean, hair products alone has to equate to two carry ons,” Y/n replied, “Jewelry, trainers, socks, that’s another two…the ego’s gotta take up, what, four?”

Jamie shut the boot, leaning on it as he listened. “I’m happy to leave you here. Watch the match on Sky Sports.”

“Sorry, too late,” Y/n smirked as she rounded the car, Jamie met her on the passenger side. The two of them stood with mere inches between them. “You’re stuck with me, Tartt.”

Their smug smiles melted into something far more warm, the emotional weight of the trip was too overwhelming to be ignored too long.

“Not a bad deal,” Jamie said softly.

“You’re playing for England,” Y/n whispered.

Jamie’s grin spread up his cheeks, reaching to tug Y/n into an embrace. Gentler than the one they’d shared after the news had broke, but matching in enthusiasm.

“Right, gotta get going,” Jamie broke away and went to the driver’s side, “Check-in’s in an hour.”

The traffic they hit made it so they’d arrive just at their appointed time. On the way, Y/n avoided any topic that could tie them back to work, and Jamie recounted a party he’d attended two days before.

“Wait…” Y/n laughed, “You’re telling me that Roy Kent - Roy Kent - has to wear a tie-dye shirt?”

“Swear down,” Jamie replied.

“Roy Kent,” Y/n repeated. The image was too insane to imagine. “Growling-in-the-halls, leather-jacket-wearing, black-coffee, black-clothes, black-everything Roy Kent.”

Jamie nodded.

Y/n fell back against the seat, “I don’t believe you.”

“I’m not playin’ ya,” Jamie laughed, one hand resting comfortably on the steering wheel, “Saw it with me own eyes.”

“And I can’t believe it till I see it with mine,” Y/n shook her head. “So, wait, you left training because Phoebe called you and invited you to a party for a pretend holiday for the man who makes your life a living hell?”

Jamie wasn’t sure how to explain it. How his relationship with Roy had gone from childhood idolization to rivalry to tolerance to mentor/mentee to…something almost, nearly, bordering…friendship? But when he’d gotten the call from Phoebe and her mum, Roy’s niece inviting him to Uncle’s Day, he hadn’t needed to give it a second thought. He’d even taken the time to track down a gift meaningful enough to crack Roy’s stony exterior.

“Dunno,” he shrugged casually, “Didn’t want to disappoint her.”

“Mmm,” Y/n nodded, pretending to buy it, “Nothing to do with the fact that you two are actually…friends?”

Jamie looked out the window, checking the space around them, “Right, you can walk from here.”

Y/n snorted, crossing her arms across her chest. Beyond the teasing, she found it incredibly sweet that Jamie would drop what he was doing not just for Roy, but for Phoebe. It echoed the same kindness he’d shown to Henry when he’d visited. She supposed it came from Jamie’s childhood, the same drive she had to make sure any kid she came across was happier than she’d been at their age.

“It’s cute.”

Jamie quirked a brow as he switched lanes, “What?”

Y/n shrugged, “Jamie Tartt’s got a soft spot for kids.”

The tingling in his chest confused Jamie. But knowing Y/n thought him admirable was…nice.

He played it off, of course, “Haven’t even told you about the play.”

Y/n slapped her hands together, “Oh, please God tell me it was interactive.”

“It was fucking Shakespearean,” Jamie laughed, before launching into the multi-hour long production Phoebe and Roy’s sister had staged.

Once they arrived at the hotel, they checked-in separately. It was an easy way for Y/n to keep herself out of any photo sightings of Jamie and she was extra happy she’d thought it out when some of his teammates arrived. She headed to the elevator while Jamie greeted them, loading into the car. Once he saw she was already off, Jamie rushed through goodbyes to catch the lift with her.

“Right,” Y/n said as they landed on the 10th floor, looking between her key and the door numbers, “I’m 502.”

“507,” Jamie replied, “End of the hall, I think.”

They found Y/n’s room first and paused outside the door.

“Right, so dinner tonight?” Jamie suggested, “I mean, it’ll mostly be me watchin’ you eat, but…”

“Jamie, no,” Y/n screwed her face, “We can have dinner literally any other night. Go be with the team.”

He knew that was what he was expected to do, and part of him wanted to go bond with the boys but…she was here. And as much as he wanted to hang with his teammates, everyone drifted to second priority when Y/n was around.

“You sure?” Jamie asked.

“Yes,” Y/n insisted, reaching out and taking his arm, “Go enjoy this. You earned it. I’m just gonna get room service and get to bed boringly early.”

Jamie chuckled, looking down at the ground. His skin jumped to life under her touch. “Alright,” he smiled up at her, “I got a ticket reserved for you at will call.”

“Okay,” she nodded.

“And…” Jamie searched for something, anything else to say, coming up short, “Yeah. Think that’s it.”

“Hey,” Y/n squeezed his arm, beaming with pride, “You’re gonna kill it.”

Jamie’s smile grew in the way only she could harvest out of him. Something about her belief in him made him feel like he could play the whole fucking match himself.

“I’ll see ya tomorrow,” he said, though he didn’t move.

“See you tomorrow,” Y/n echoed, rubbing his shoulder before breaking apart and unlocking her door. Jamie took it as his cue to drag his own suitcase down the hall, five doors down.

Y/n did a lap around her room, taking stock of where everything was. It was a nice fucking hotel, though she shouldn’t have expected anything else. She set her suitcase in the corner, there was no need to go to the trouble of unpacking for a two night stay.

She dropped onto the edge of the bed. With Jamie off and the room mapped out, there was nothing to do but sit with her thoughts.

Y/n sighed, her chest returned to feeling hollow, knowing this life was about to disappear. No more traveling with the Greyhounds, the endless chatter on long bus rides, her room being sandwiched between two of they boy’s and dealing with their late night shenanigans that typically resulted in a large check being written to the hotel…

She grabbed the bedside phone, dialing the corresponding number on the paper below it. She couldn’t deal with being sad sober or on an empty stomach. “Yes, room service? Can I have a bottle of wine and the chef’s special delivered to room 502? Thank you.”

It was going to be a long night.

——————

The next morning, Y/n took advantage of getting to sleep in on Friday. The game wasn’t until noon, she set her alarm for ten. She ordered breakfast to the room and ate in bed. Sadness went well with pancakes, she found.

Eventually, she got dressed for the match. She smiled to herself as she slipped the ‘#9’ jersey over her tank top. It would be the first, and most likely only opportunity she’d have to wear it.

Wembley was close enough to the hotel that she didn’t bother ordering an Uber, choosing instead to join the crowds and walk. She’d forgotten just how massive the stadium was when she arrived at the ticket booth.

“Hi,” she greeted the guy working will call, “There should be a ticket under the name ‘Y/l/n.’”

The man fished through a few envelopes before reaching into one and slipping a ticket under the glass window. “Enjoy the match, love.”

“Thank you,” she smiled.

It had been years since Y/n had been to Wembley, the last time for a concert fresh off of graduation. She couldn’t remember the section numbers and locations to save her life.

Once she got inside, she found a security guard. “Excuse me? Could you point me towards section…” she read her ticket once more, “120?”

The guard glanced at her ticket before pointing her towards a massive staircase. “All the way down, midfield.”

“Okay,” Y/n headed off, calling back to him, “Thank you.”

She melted into the crowd and followed them down the stairs. She kept looking between her ticket and the descending rows of seats, realizing when she hit the ground that Jamie hadn’t just gotten her a seat…he’d gotten her one in the front row.

Y/n made her way down, past families and groups of friends, finding her seat was on the aisle. It allowed her a perfect view of the field, Jamie would most certainly be able to spot her.

The atmosphere before the match was a welcome cheeriness, Y/n couldn’t help but get caught up in the excitement of it. It was hard to be depressed with 90,000 people around you cheering and singing.

The teams marched out onto the pitch, their respective fans standing and screaming. Y/n was on her feet as soon as England was out, spotting Jamie towards the back. He was on the reserve squad and came out near last. She hoped he would get at least a few minutes on the field.

Jamie was caught up in the moment enough that he didn’t search for Y/n. Knowing she was there was enough.

By the second half of the match, England was up by a point, but Jamie still had yet to get on the pitch. Y/n was fidgeting more with each minute that passed, hoping that this would be the point that #9 would tire out enough and Jamie could sub in.

Finally, it happened. Jamie came off the bench as one of the refs held up the board, announcing Jamie’s arrival and his number. #24.

Y/n pressed a hand to her heart, her lips falling open in a loose smile. It was a hell of statement after their #24 had been passed over for the Nigerian league. But more importantly, it was an incredibly touching gesture. Sam had to have been beaming shyly, wherever he was watching from.

Jamie got onto the pitch and first ended up assisting in one goal. When the clock came down to the last five minutes, he shot across the field, catching the ball from one of his teammates and running it down the pitch.

“Come on, Jamie,” Y/n muttered under her breath, her eyes glued to him. He could make it.

Faking left and spinning around to the right, Jamie power kicked the ball toward the net, evading the goalie and landing a perfect shot.

Y/n shot out of her seat with the rest of the crowd, screaming as loud as she could.

Jamie looked pleased, his nearest teammates slapping him across the back in congratulations. He turned to the crowd and grinned, soaking in the moment he’d been waiting for since he was a kid. The whole stadium was cheering for him.

His eyes floated to section 120, finding the furthest seat and the woman occupying it. Their eyes met and Jamie caught the unmistakable Greyhound blue underneath her coat, his chest suddenly swelling with something deeper than pride. She’d worn the fucking shirt.

Y/n grinned at him, raising her fists above her head. Jamie patted his chest, just above his heart, smiling right back at her.

England ended up winning, of course, and Y/n felt like she was floating. She couldn’t get up the stairs fast enough, hurrying through the concourses till she found two doors with ample security stood outside.

“Hi,” she said, nearly out of breath, “I work at AFC Richmond. I need to see Jamie Tartt,” Y/n pulled out her phone as she saw the guard inhaling to turn her away, “I have proof of employment.”

She pulled up an email exchange with Higgins and held up her employee ID, matching the signature to the card. The guard nodded, “Come with me.”

Y/n followed down the hall, stopping outside the locker room as the guard instructed her to wait. The commotion inside could be heard all down the hall, chants and cheers from the boys echoing off the walls.

A few seconds later, Jamie emerged, soaked in champagne and sweat.

Neither of them hesitated to launch into one another’s arms, Jamie full on lifting and spinning her around. They were a mess of laughs and squeals and smiles.

“You did it,” Y/n grinned, her arms tight around Jamie’s neck.

“We fucking did it,” he growled happily, still twirling her in the air.

“Jamie,” Y/n laughed as he finally dropped her. She held his face in her hands, “You were incredible. You were fucking amazing.”

Jamie beamed, finally feeling whole. He’d been waiting all day to hug her.

“My gosh,” Y/n smiled, on the verge of tears.

“Not a bad seat either, yeah?” Jamie smiled.

“You just fucking played for England and that’s what you wanna talk about?” Y/n exclaimed as she lightly shoved his chest.

Jamie’s hands fiddled agaisnt Y/n’s waist, the adrenaline from the game still pulsing through. He rubbed the extra material of the shirt, his shirt, between his fingers.

He cocked a brow, “Thought you said you’d never wear this.”

Y/n shrugged playfully, “I had a compelling reason.”

There was enough electricity running through them both without the added crackling of their hands, the pure lightning that was striking between their eyes. It was a moment so full of emotion, if it lasted much longer, it stood the chance to naturally lead to something…

“Oi! Tartt!”

Jamie and Y/n dropped their hands, the outside presence causing embarrassment they didn’t know they felt. Jamie nodded back at one of his teammates, “Yeah?”

“Get the fuck back in here,” he gestured back to the room. The celebration hadn’t stopped in Jamie’s absence.

“Yeah, be in a minute,” Jamie distractedly smiled before turning back to Y/n, “Right-“

“Jamie,” Y/n shook her head, smiling knowingly, “Go. Go celebrate your moment.

He hesitated, truthfully, he didn’t want her to be so encouraging. “Yeah, but we gotta celebrate too,” Jamie reached out for her hands.

“And we will,” Y/n replied, squeezing his palms, “But now, you’re gonna go in there, you’re going to get absolutely shit-faced and create a million horrible headlines for me to issue a million and one apologies for.”

Jamie snorted and stared down at their intwined hands. Half of him was itching to get back in the locker room, the other stayed right where he was.

“Go,” Y/n repeated.

Jamie tugged her back to his chest, the two of them fitting together as perfectly as ever. He was so unbelievably glad she’d said yes to coming. Looking out into the stands, seeing her cheering for him had boosted his spirits in a way nothing else could.

Even as he broke away, he left backwards. “I mean it,” Jamie pointed at her, “We’re fucking celebrating.”

Y/n just laughed and shoved the air, staying till he disappeared back into the locker room. Jamie’s ecstasy was feeding her, the victory lifting them both up sky high. She was so glad she hadn’t turned him down.

The security guard escorted her out to the concourse and she found her way back to the hotel. Each street was echoing with chants and cheers for England, the whole of London was buzzing. It was beautiful.

Y/n got back to her room, turning on the TV to Sky Sports and watching the recap. Jamie, of course, made the conversation, both his goal and his kit number were heavily discussed.

Y/n smiled when Sam’s name came up, pulling her phone out and sending an array of appropriate emojis to the young Nigerian along with his number. He fired back a few red hearts in reply.

Roughly an hour had passed when there was a knock at the door. Y/n slid out of bed confused. She hadn’t ordered dinner yet.

She opened the door to find Jamie, hair combed, showered and out of his kit, leaning against her door frame.

“I thought I told you to go spend time with the team,” Y/n chuckled in surprise.

“I did,” he shrugged, “Now it’s our turn.”

Y/n rolled her eyes but couldn’t kill the growing grin. She wanted the day to be everything Jamie wanted, but she couldn’t deny the ever-present desire to stay in his field of gravity. If he was here willingly, she wasn’t going to fight him.

She matched his posture and leaned against the frame, “What’d you have in mind?”

“Dinner, club,” Jamie listed off the options, “Go to the top of the Shard, scream as loud as we can.”

Y/n laughed, “I can do that.”

“Good,” Jamie smiled, looking down at his watch, “You got twenty minutes.”

“Clearly you learned nothing dating Keeley,” Y/n scoffed, “Put thirty on the clock.”

“Fine,” Jamie relented, “I’ll be back in thirty minutes exactly. That’s it. Not waitin’.” He couldn’t even pretend to be that strict, a smile contradicting his words.

Y/n gave a two fingered salute, “I’ll be ready.”

She shut the door, hearing him shuffling down the hall. In her suitcase, she’d packed a dress, knowing the chances of Jamie and her going out after was a distinct possibility. She also thought she was crazy to assume that at all. Yet still, she’d gone to the trouble of picking one out, laboring over the choice far longer than it should have taken.

Within thirty minutes, Y/n managed to shower, do her hair and light makeup, slipping into the dress and her sneakers at the twenty-nine minute mark. She gave herself a once over in the mirror, giving herself a pat on the back for exceptional work in such a short time frame.

On cue, there were three knocks at the door.

Y/n grabbed her purse and unlocked the door, Jamie once again stood in waiting.

He wasn’t quite sure what he’d expected when he’d told Y/n they were going out for a night on the town, but whatever it was…wasn’t what he got. Y/n was stunning, gorgeous, in a strappy pink dress, her hair tied up. It was all in stark contrast to how she usually dressed around Nelson Road, all business attire or jeans on a casual day. This was…this was something.

“Wow,” Jamie managed, his eyes running up and down her form.

Y/n took an honest look at Jamie for the first time of the night. His usual floppy hairstyle and headband had been swapped for a blow dry and a neat side swoop. A deep blue dress shirt was unbuttoned a bit further than other men’s and a dark textured blazer layered it, finished with dress pants, actual shoes and a gold chain. He looked good.

“No trainers,” Y/n was lost for anything else to say, “It really is a special occasion.”

Jamie chuckled, still unable to tear his eyes off of her. It was going to get awkward if he didn’t stop soon.

He offered his arm, “Shall we?”

“We shall,” Y/n slipped her arm through Jamie’s and they strolled down the hall.

Once they’d slipped out the lobby, they hailed a cab and Jamie gave the driver an address. They arrived at a five star rooftop restaurant and bar and made their way to a table, the thumping music and chatter of the weekend crowd enveloping them. A fair amount of the other patrons were celebrating England’s victory heartily.

“Look at this,” Y/n smiled, a group of people excitedly describing the game as they passed their table, “You did this.”

“Wasn’t just me,” Jamie replied.

“Yeah, but you were part of it,” Y/n corrected, shaking her head, “Jeez, Jamie…you scored a fucking goal.”

“I did, yeah,” Jamie grinned and admitted, walking the line between humility and cockiness as only he could.

Y/n waited a moment, admiring the joy in Jamie’s eyes as his eyes followed the fans. It was childlike, pure and wild.

“You didn’t tell me you were gonna wear #24,” she eventually said.

Jamie nodded, “Just felt right. It’s mad they didn’t pick him.”

“It is,” Y/n agreed, looking out at the darkening London sky, wondering how Sam was actually holding up. “But that was brave, wearing it. Like you were giving whoever didn’t choose him the middle finger.”

He chortled, his eyes lingering on her longer and longer each time they found her. Jamie was losing the battle to look away.

Y/n was the first to drop her gaze. Like always, there were ghosts dining with them. She’d been itching with concern for Jamie all day, but hadn’t said anything.

“So…how was it being back? At Wembley?”

Jamie caught the meaning instantly, it wasn’t exactly far from his mind. As much fun as he’d had, being back in the locker room had inevitably triggered unpleasant memories.

“Bit weird,” Jamie admitted, “But…I don’t know. I think I was too distracted to think about it too much.”

“That’s good,” Y/n gently smiled, “Of course, now I’ve brought it up and…”

Jamie reached out and took her hand reassuringly, “And nothing.”

Y/n’s lips tugged upwards slightly, squeezing Jamie’s palm.

A horribly timed interruption caused them both to have to tear his gaze away, the waiter returning with their drinks. He took them both and handed Y/n hers.

“Alright,” she scooted forward in her seat, “What’re we drinking to?”

Jamie sighed, thinking a moment, “Well, to me, obviously,” he got a laugh out of Y/n, “To the team. To England. To Richmond,” he swallowed, “To you.”

Y/n raised a brow, “To me?”

“Yeah,” Jamie smiled coyly, “You comin’ here, cheering me on. Knowing you were there…”

The humor of the moment was gone entirely, replaced by sweet sentiment. Jamie and Y/n’s friendship had come to mean more to them than they could have guessed that first night in Sam’s restaurant. Or the time they’d run into each other at the Crown and Anchor, spending an hour pouring over apartments for Y/n. They had become each other’s north star. They were a part of one another, reflecting the best of each other back.

“To having a good night,” Jamie continued, unable to finish his last thought, “And not worrying about anything. Not thinking about anything. Just celebrating.”

Not all of the time they spent together was so serious, but one of the basis of Y/n and Jamie’s bond was their mutual pain. So many of their conversations somehow traced back to her parents, his dad, how they were the way they were because of their failures. Not to mention, Y/n had the news of KJPR’s shutdown weighing on her back. She’d have to break the news to Jamie come morning.

But tonight, tonight was a night for none of it. They would drink, they would laugh, and they would revel in Jamie’s accomplishment.

Y/n clinked her glass against Jamie’s. “To not thinking.”

And that’s exactly what they did. They didn’t think as they ordered a second round of drinks.

Or a third.

They didn’t think as they went to a club, pulling one another close to dance.

They didn’t think as they giggled their way back to their hotel.

And they certainly didn’t think as they stumbled into Y/n’s room, a collision of roaming hands and eager lips.

—————

Heartfirst Taglist: @lalla-04p @optimisticsandwichgladiator @makingmunson94 @taytaylala12 @storysimp @sokkigarden @lightninginab0ttle @poohkie90 @alipap3 @verra-nerevarine @shineforever19 @spaceagechimera @burnafter-reading @qardasngan @cyberpvnk-enthusiast @sogoodtoheritsvicious @buckybarnex @angelsunflxwer @blueanfield @thewildestwonderland @sablecities @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo @strawberryacethingz @mentalistfan @tortilla-maria1 @katdahlali @for-fuck-sake-im-alive @glitterquadricorn @jamieolivia27 @imvibin69 @katlizada @lil-tracys @fanaticalfantasist @heyitz-julia @cactajuice @peachyy-tea @notalxx @rockchickrebel @anxiety-prime-max @loveforaugust @jellycolors @actuallybarb @heletsmelovehim @lovinnscarletknight @imfalling-inlove @leslieiscrying @meg-ro @littlemisssunshine192 @beboldbebravethings @maydayfigment @spencerreidsbookclub @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @lemoonandlestars @im-a-weirdo-for-life @mindless-rock (tags cont. in comments ❤️)

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt imagine #keeley jones x reader #ted lasso imagine #ted lasso fanfic #ted lasso fanfiction #heartfirst

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gliphyartfan · 2 months ago

Note

You can ignore this.

What about a reader that got Stockholm Syndrome and feels that they don't deserve the affection they get from the chain so they show love towards the chain by waking before most of the chain early morning and making meals for the chain and fixing clothes they find damaged. Basically reader showing affection to the chain by doing domestic things for them.

Hmmmmmm….i can’t say I’ll do well…

Well...I can say this isn’t @yanderelinkeduniverse’s (y/n) (one of my many eternal muses) so you can choose whoever you want to be the star of this one.

Hopefully I did your request justice!

But anyway: here you go my friend!

The early morning air was cool and damp as (Y/N) carefully stirred from their bedroll, the familiar rustling of leaves and the distant call of birds filling the quiet camp.

The sky was just beginning to lighten, a soft gray hue filtering through the trees.

It was their favorite time of day, a time when everything felt calm, peaceful, and they could focus on showing their affection to the Chain in the only way they felt they could.

Quietly, (Y/N) slipped past the others. This time, it was Twilight and Time who were keeping watch on opposite sides of the camp.

Both acknowledged them with a brief glance, nodding silently as (Y/N) smiled in return.

(Y/N) didn’t notice the way their gazes lingered after they passed, how Twilight’s brow furrowed slightly in concern, or how Time’s lips tightened, his eyes narrowing at their every movement.

They reached the small pile of supplies they’d set aside for breakfast.

It was comforting to have a task, something they could do for the group. But as (Y/N) began preparing the meal, the familiar pang of guilt surfaced. Cooking was Wild’s passion, not theirs.

As they started to chop the vegetables, that guilt gnawed at them again.

‘This is something that brings him joy,’ (Y/N) thought, ‘I’m taking it from him.’ But Wild had always been so kind about it. He’d smile and tell them it was fine, that he didn’t mind.

Yet every time (Y/N) asked for permission to cook, and every time Wild gave it, the knot of guilt in their chest grew tighter.

‘He allows it’, (Y/N) tried to rationalize, stirring the pot with a slow, careful motion. ‘I’m not taking anything from him if he says it’s okay.’ And they needed to help in some way, to contribute. It was the least they could do for the Chain, who did so much for them.

But, as they worked, they failed to notice the subtle shifts around them.

Time’s watchful gaze had turned more focused, tracking every move (Y/N) made as though expecting them to falter.

Twilight’s sharp eyes followed their form, and when he shifted to check on the rest of the camp, his glance lingered a little longer than usual. Neither said anything, but there was something shared between them, an unspoken concern as they watched (Y/N) work.

The quiet was broken when Time approached them, his steps soft but deliberate. “Up early again?” His voice, as always, was gentle. His eyes, soft and affectionate.

(Y/N) looked up, offering him a small, sheepish smile. “I didn’t want to wake anyone.”

Time’s hand came to rest on their shoulder, his touch warm but firm. “You never do. You’re always so careful.” His words were meant as praise, but something in his tone made (Y/N) feel like it wasn’t quite a compliment.

Still, they took it in stride, smiling again as they continued to stir the pot.

“I’m almost done,” they said, hoping to shift the conversation. “Figured I’d finish up before everyone else wakes.”

Time’s hand didn’t leave their shoulder. His grip remained, not forceful, but strong. “You don’t have to do so much for us, you know,” he said softly, his voice carrying a strange mix of affection and something deeper.

There was a shadow of concern in his gaze, though (Y/N) didn’t notice it before it was hidden away swiftly. “We’d still care for you, even if you didn’t.”

(Y/N) smiled up at him, feeling their cheeks warm at his words. “I just… I want to help,” they said, brushing off the unease that briefly surfaced. Time smiled back, his eyes softening.

By the time breakfast was ready, the rest of the Chain began to stir.

Wild was the first to reach the fire, his hair still wild from sleep, and his eyes soft with that familiar warmth he always had when looking at (Y/N).

“Thanks for breakfast,” Wild said, his voice rough from sleep but laced with gratitude. “You didn’t have to do it, though. I could’ve handled it.”

“I know,” (Y/N) replied quickly, that familiar knot of guilt rising again. “I just… I wanted to help.”

Wild gave them a soft, almost sad smile as he reached out to gently ruffle their hair. “You always do. But don’t feel like you have to take my job, okay?” His voice was kind, but there was an undertone to it, a subtle hint that he was worried about something more than just the cooking.

(Y/N) laughed it off, feeling the guilt twist a little deeper.

‘He’s fine with it. He said so.’ But they couldn’t help the nagging voice at the back of their mind, reminding them that they were taking something precious from him. Something that he loved.

And yet… Wild never complained. None of them did.

As the rest of the group gathered for breakfast, (Y/N) found themselves sitting a little to the side, quietly watching the others eat. They didn’t notice the way the Chain’s eyes flicked back toward them, each of them sharing brief, worried looks when they thought (Y/N) wasn’t looking.

Legend’s sharp gaze lingered a little too long, narrowing slightly, as if calculating something.

Twilight’s lips pressed into a thin line, his brow furrowing in thought as he ate in silence.

(y/n) merely yawned, wondering if they shouldn’t have stood up the night before working in repairing Wild’s cloak. (It hadn’t been a cloak then, more like shreds of cloth.)

They didn’t notice, though, too focused on making sure everything had gone smoothly with breakfast, and too used to the constant presence of their protectors to see anything strange about it.

When the meal was finished, (Y/N) gathered Warriors’ tunic, noticing the small tear that had appeared near the hem.

They set about mending it, their hands moving with practiced ease. It was a small, simple task, but one they took comfort in. It felt good to help in any way they could.

But as they worked, they didn’t notice the way Warriors’ eyes followed them, a look of soft concern on his usually confident expression.

He didn’t say anything, just watched, his fingers twitching slightly as if he wanted to take the tunic from them, perhaps even the needle.

But he didn’t. Instead, he exchanged a glance with Hyrule, whose gaze flickered between (Y/N) and the fire.

“Are you alright?” Hyrule asked after a moment, his voice quiet and gentle. He sat down beside (Y/N), close but not too close, his body angled protectively as if ready to shield them from something.

(Y/N) blinked, surprised by the question. “I’m fine,” they answered quickly, offering him a reassuring smile. “Just fixing up some clothes. No big deal.”

Hyrule’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, but he nodded, accepting their words even though his gaze remained fixed on them, watching carefully, as though searching for any sign of strain or exhaustion.

The Chain’s affection surrounded them constantly, soft gazes, gentle touches, and quiet reassurances, but behind it all, there was a deeper worry that (Y/N) never noticed.

They didn’t see the way Time’s brow furrowed when they stayed up late mending clothes or the way Wild watched them a little too closely when they cooked.

They didn’t notice how Twilight hovered nearby, ready to step in at a moment’s notice, or how Legend’s gaze sharpened whenever they worked too hard.

To (Y/N), this was just love. Pure, simple love.

They had long stopped questioning the oddness of the Chain’s protectiveness.

(They didn’t see the possessiveness in their eyes or the way their concern often bordered on something more obsessive.)

They were safe. They were loved. And even if they didn’t feel worthy of all the attention, all the care the Chain gave them, they couldn’t deny the warmth it brought.

(And if there was more to it than that, (Y/N) remained blissfully unaware.)

#hmmm #linked universe #lu #yandere linked universe #(y/n)#lu time #lu wild #meh #doesn’t vibe with me #good practice tho!#gliphy answers #anon ask #gliphy writes #linkeduniverse #yandere lu

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biibini · 11 months ago

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modern!mizu headcannons

a/n: my brain has been nothing but her so it’s ab time i write ab her. i’ve read a bunch of modern!mizu headcannons ab her but i need more !! it becomes a drabble at the end but my girl deserves peace and happiness pls

i’ve read a lot of hc w her in uni so i’ll prob stick to the similar things ive read + more

modern!mizu would def be in university studying mechanical engineering

ik this is specific but pls hear me out it fits bc shes a smartie & her adopted dad (master eiji) was a very technical person when she was growing up

she’s also in uni due to an engineering scholarship

modern!mizu is usually at the gym if it wasn’t for classes and fixing her bike

yes she has a motorcycle. i stand by this hc and many others who share similar ideas.

prob a kawasaki ninja but decked out w her own alternations

modern!mizu is a gym rat but is too stubborn to admit it, esp after taigen pointed it out once

likes to go in the early morning for the peace and quiet

she typically goes in for cardio and weights to keep her healthy and in shape but has dabbled in calisthenics before

taigen used to fence w her before he got into other sports such as basketball

(random thought but he just looks like he would play basketball player)

modern!mizu is very smart… but has a slight huge problem with procrastination

akemi has tried many studying techniques with mizu but it ends up her procrastinating and finishing alone

she prefers studying alone in the library or at her desk, until you came along

(ill elaborate on mizu & reader another time)

modern!mizu cannot cook for shit i’m sorry

she can kinda chef it up but it’s taken her a while she nearly burnt the kitchen and has repeatedly turned on the fire alarm and now ringo has ptsd

usually ringo will cook something or help her cook

speaking of ringo

her and ringo are roommates in off-campus housing 2 bed 2 bath

at first, dad eiji was a bit hesitant since he was helping mizu move in but warmed up to ringo once he cooked them dinner (his mom’s soba recipe)

mizu swears she saw a tear roll down her dad’s cheek that day

modern!mizu usually dresses more casually and comfy but still likes her dark blues

not to self indulge but she would like the baggy acubi look that she can move in

(i know this is so inaccurate of others’ headcannons but pls the baggy button up + slingbag combo would go crazy)

ik she got a uniqlo drawstring sling bag

or just any sporty crossbody sling bag

hear me out pls

it’s easier to get on and balance on her motorcycle with comfy clothes and a secure bag

on mizu’s and ringo’s move-in “anniversary” (as ringo like to call it), he got her a lil keychain for her bag with a jingle on it as a joke to her initial move-in gift to him: a bell for being so silent

modern!mizu usually keeps to herself and her friends

after her ex bf m*k*o (yes im censoring his name he doesnt deserve to be typed out) , she’s very cautious of who to trust

thankfully, ringo, akemi, and taigan (as much of an ass as he is) has taught her to open up and be okay with who she is

but there are days when she prefers to be alone and sticking to her own business in peace and quiet

headphones on locked in 🎧

modern!mizu likes to wind down before bed with some chamomile or lavender tea

her temper used to control her feelings, especially when she was much younger

having a small routine at night keeps her calm & well rested

eiji initially started this routine after their long days of welding in the backyard

she can’t cook but give her a teapot and tea leaves, she will make it right

(ok im done imagining her life lets get to the good stuff)

modern!mizu loves little touches

whether it’s holding u by ur hand or shoulder or waist, her hand will always be there

her main love language is physical touch

the more comfortable she gets with u, the longer she’ll leave her hand on u

whenever u and her are out at a party or gathering, u implemented the secret squeeze if either one of u wants to get out

u haven’t used it before but mizu did a few times

it was when she just wanted to be closer to u in the comfort of her own bed

modern!mizu enjoys shopping w u

she kind of knows her style: comfy and light

but she never explored how to pair clothes together until u showed her some basic pairing

when she first met akemi, she was uncomfortable with more feminine styles and shopping for going-out tops with her

it mainly stems from just not knowing a lot of trends and seeing a wide range of items

she got accustomed the items but seeing u have fun trying new tops

totally not sneaking into the changing room and stealing a few kisses many kisses

modern!mizu also enjoys holding ur things for u

she won’t say it explicitly but she is silently expressive ab it

u need someone to hold ur drink while u fix ur shoes? she got it. need someone to hold ur bag while u go to the bathroom? she got it.

need someone to get a glass of water even though ur all comfy in bed? she will get it (for a price aka some extra cuddles & kisses)

she’s also the type of put ur hand behind ur back when ur in a crowd

ok thats all for now but hope u enjoyed ♡

#mizu x reader #mizu bes #bes mizu #mizu blue eye samurai #blue eye samurai #blue eye samurai mizu #modern au #mizu x you #mizu x y/n #mizu headcanons #mizu #headcanon #modern au fic #modern au mizu #blue eye samurai modern au #modern au blue eye samurai #modern mizu x reader

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nori-writes · 1 year ago

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Sweet Country Lovin’

Cole Cassidy x Reader

W/C: 750+

A/N: Oh? Another one? This soon? Does this mean I’m fully coming back? Idk either. Sorry :’) But hopefully it’s a yes. It’s currently 1:20 AM while I type this and I need to be up at 5:50 AM so, I guess I’d better hurry up. I also just realized how many requests I have….. I don’t know what I’m doing here writing my own shit…. I should be doing requests- 😭

Also, I haven’t proof read this. Oops.

The sun rose, the same as every morning. There was nothing particularly special about today except the fact that both you and Cole had the day off. It wasn’t a common occurrence but a nice one when the time came.

These days were never spent doing much except staying around the house. A load or two of laundry would’ve been the most to get done on those days, not that it was a bad thing.

Days where you were both off consisted of you two lying around the house together, whether you two were doing the same thing or separate things you still typically sat in each other's company. Anything but work.

Thank god that today was one of these said days, it was much deserved and needed, missions felt like they had been running longer recently with less rest time in between, leaving you and Cole almost no time together except the typical meals that the two of you tended to share.

As your eyes opened slowly as you sat up, your vision blurry and you rubbed the sleep away you went to turn to meet your boyfriend who usually occupied the spot next to you to find that he had already made his way out of bed. Unusual for him.

You pulled the covers off of your body and got yourself out of bed fixing your hair with the brush that sat on your nightstand before opening your bedroom door. When you opened the door you were hit with the smell of pancakes, sausage and maple syrup.

Following the smell you found yourself in the kitchen where Cole looked to be setting a tray with the food he had made, god how lucky you were. It was obvious that he was going to bring you breakfast in bed but alas, you were awake now. So instead you slipped behind him, laying your head into his back, wrapping your arms around his torso.

“Well, mornin’ sweet pea,” he spoke in a soft voice, his body melting into your touch as he still put food onto the tray. There was a small moment of silence before he spoke again, “I was gonna bring you breakfast in bed but it looks like you’re not sleepin’ anymore.”

You nodded and you spoke for the first time this morning, your voice coming out groggy, “Well, why are you still putting food onto the tray then?” You questioned curiously.

The cowboy turned his body all the way around so now he was actually facing you, he stopped for a minute to take in your morning state. It was something Cole would tell you he loved about you. How it was you, completely unfiltered. He loved the way your hair wasn’t perfect and how his shirt was a little too big on you, the way you were extra clingy in the mornings, the way that he could just stare at you for hours in the morning and be completely content. Though, you’d usually brush it off everytime he said it, telling him he was going crazy.

Finally he spoke, “Well, I was thinkin’ we can both get cozy back in bed with some breakfast and turn on a movie for a lazy mornin’. How’s that sound?”

You nodded, that sounded amazing right now, “Please.”

“Well that’s all the answer I needed darlin’. Why don’t you get back into bed and pick out a movie for the two of us to watch? I’ll be back there in just a minute, alright?”

“Will do.”

You gave a small smile before Cole leaned down to leave a kiss on your lips, “Now don’t go fallin’ asleep on me while I’m out here doin’ this.”

You returned the kiss, the taste of the coffee and a cigar he had this morning stained onto his lips, “I would never.”

Some minutes passed and you had made your way back to the shared bedroom while you picked out a movie Cole finished up getting breakfast together for the two of you.

Not so soon after your lover made his way back to the bedroom with a tray of food for the two of you to share, unfortunately, you had fallen back asleep.

All the cowboy could do was set the tray of food back in the kitchen before coming back into the bedroom, slipping into his side of the bed, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you into him, pressing a kiss onto the top of your head.

Sometimes things didn’t always go as planned but that doesn’t mean the outcome isn’t always as good, and this was one of those things. Perfect in its own way.

As always if you enjoyed I’ve got the good ol’ dandy Masterlist is here.

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rinneroraito · 9 months ago

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it could be the alcohoL

Maybe I deserve a break. Maybe, just maybe, I need to loosen up, because things had gone painfully awry when we started putting up cameras and wiretaps in Light Yagami’s room only for them to be removed shortly.

I was so sure we’d at least get something out of it, just something to move the investigation along. First it was the FBI agents, and now this. We were at a dead end again and it just stressed me out. Every waking moment that Kira was out there sowed fear deeper into the hearts of concerned citizens, and also a cult following of people who thought he was a god.

Staring up at the off-white ceiling, mulling over the events that transpired throughout the whole investigation, I sighed. It was all that consumed me for a while, every bit of energy I had had been directed towards this case. The mattress felt comforting, but I needed something else to take the edge off just a little bit, so I got up and grabbed the telephone by the bedside table, dialing Room Service.

“Hi, do you happen to have alcohol?”

—-

L was typing away at his computer when I shuffled into his room with a can of beer. The reason why I came here is lost to me now, only remembering that I wanted to see him. I’ve already finished 3 cans and was obviously inebriated at this moment and I figured if I had a drink then I might as well just enjoy myself. An aspirin, loads of cold water, a carbonated drink and some hot broth in the morning would fix me up.

The screens glowed in his dark office, and I could see his back as he crouched on his seat, the keyboard clicking as he continued to type. His head slightly bobs up and down, left and right as he looked at his screens. I drag my feet to him.

I stood there right behind L, looking at the screens first, then down at him, or at least down at the back of his head and the nape of his neck covered sparsely by his dark hair.

“Miss Uehara, I can smell the alcohol from here,” L says, not looking up at me.

“I’m off duty at the moment, aren’t I? Don’t worry, I’ll be alright in the morning, I have a regimen for this.” I replied, putting an arm on the back of the chair he was sitting on and leaning towards the back of his head. Reaching the other hand holding the beer out to him, I asked.

“You want some?”

“No thank you, I’d like to keep a clear head while working.”

“I figured. You’re such a workaholic, Detective. Such a workaholic.”

“Your speech isn’t slurring yet so I assume you’re just buzzed. Were you pressured by the events as of late? I didn’t expect you to be the type to drink alcohol, actually.”

“Oh, you didn’t, did you? Well, it has been stressful, but I can manage. This helps.” I brought the can to my mouth and took a long swig from it, exhaling after. “And I guess, in some way, you’re helping me, too.”

L was very much aware of the effects of alcohol and how it lowers down a person’s inhibitions significantly. The way I was approaching him right now was more daring than usual and he knew it. I drank down what was left of the drink in the can. “Would you please elaborate on that, Miss Uehara? Besides helping out with the Kira case and that small encouragement I gave you some time ago, I don’t suppose I’ve done anything of significant help towards you.”

A small chuckle escaped me as I leaned closer towards him, resting my forehead on the back of his head. I felt him shift slightly as I made contact with him, but I could still hear the keyboard clicking so he didn’t seem too distracted at all by what I did.

“Because you’re an inspiration to me and well, I like that you’re here, World’s Greatest Detective. It’s like, a biiiig deal to me that I get to work with you, you know?” I ramble.

“You speak rather highly of me, Miss Uehara, I’m touched, thank you.” He speaks in his usual monotone voice and in my inebriation and the fact that I couldn't see his face, it was hard for me to tell if he was actually flattered or was just responding out of courtesy.

“Also, I think I actually like you, L...”

The keyboard’s clacking stopped as the words escaped my mouth. I dropped the usual honorific I called him by, likely influenced by the alcohol. He was still, and I continued to ramble on in my intoxication.

“I like the way you stare at things like you’re trying to dissect them before you, your piercing glare so intense that I feel like if you had lasers in your eyes I’d be bisected right in front of you. I like the way you daintily hold things with your thumb and forefinger, and it makes me wonder just how strong your digits are.”

He shifted slightly forwards, and I brought the arm that I had resting on the back of his chair around to rest on his shoulder.

“I like the way you eat your sweets, it’s nice to see you enjoy them. I like how I can’t tell if you’re being sarcastic or you’re just being blunt at times, and it sends the rest of the Task Force in a state of confusion whenever you say something.” I chuckled, pressing my cheek on the top of his head.

“I like your face, the seemingly permanent shadows under your eyes, your sharp jawlines and how long your neck is, your lanky frame… I like how you’re so smart and you know that you’re the smartest guy in the room but you give everyone the benefit of the doubt because of the way you look.”

“Miss Uehara…”

“I don’t know, Detective, maybe I do like you or maybe it’s the alcohol.” Hair strands fell off my shoulders, caressing the nape of his neck as I lowered my face on the back of his head, his hair brushing against my cheeks. “Your hair smells nice.” I say, feeling my breath bounce off of the nape of his neck and I felt him bend forward away from me just a little.

“While I am flattered by your words, Miss Uehara, I have my reservations over accepting them due to your current state. Were the things you just said truthful and you’ve been harboring a fondness for me for a while or were they just a product of the mock confidence induced by alcohol?”

My eyelids fluttered as I listened to him and I tilted my head so my cheek was pressed into the back of his head again.

“If I remember all of this in the morning and start acting awkward around you, then you’ll know..”

“Would you kindly stand up so I can move away, please? I’ll have Watari assist you back to your room.” Exhaling slowly I did as he requested and leaned away from him. “Can I sleep on the couch over there? I don’t..” I swayed slightly on my feet.

He turns around and looks up at me, his wide eyes illuminated by the electric lighting of the monitors before us. I could swear there was a gentleness in it, but it could be the alcohol. “I don’t want to be alone tonight. I just want to know that there’s someone else within the 4 walls of the room I’m in.”

“Very well. I’ll have a blanket brought up here for you.” He gets out of his seat and walks around his chair to my side.

“Thanks, Detective.” I stepped back so I could walk to where the couch was when the rest of the alcohol I just drank suddenly hit me and I stumbled backwards. L, who had been perceptive of the entire situation, was able to grab me by my shoulders before I could lose my balance even more.

“Easy. It seems like the rest of the alcohol you drank is starting to run its course, please hold on to me and I’ll walk you to the couch.”

His grip on my shoulders was firm and secure. I leaned into him and he brought one of his arms around my back as he walked me to the couch by the other end of the room where I promptly dropped myself onto. The couch felt more comfortable than my hotel room’s bed for some reason.

My voice comes out a little ragged as I pull my feet up onto the couch.

“Hey, Detective..?”

“Yes, Miss Uehara?”

“I still have the lollipop stick from that day we met.”

If he ever replied, I couldn’t hear it anymore as my eyes swam and sleep took over me.

#l lawliet #death note #death note l #l death note #l lawliet x reader #l lawliet x y/n #l lawliet x you #oc x canon

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moonlightspencie · 1 year ago

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lost in it

Description: The aftermath of falling down a rabbit hole!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x gn!Reader

Warnings: angst, some fluffies

Word Count: 1.9k

spotify playlist link!

A/N: gender neutral reader! (no use of pronouns or ‘y/n’)

SPENCER POV

‘Love,

What’s wrong with me? I think something terribly wrong has happened to my brain, and I don’t know how to fix it. I think you might be the only person who could begin to understand how to, but for obvious reasons, I can’t ask you to do that. I thought time would change things and that I’d start feeling normal again, but every morning I wake up and it feels like my only excuse for getting out of bed is that if I don’t, you’re all I’d dream about.

I still don’t understand how something so perfect could have gone so terribly wrong. Maybe there was too much fire, and because didn’t get a handle on it, we let it burn down everything instead of letting it keep us warm. I don’t know. I hate not knowing. I’m supposed to understand things. But then, you’ve always been an enigma of sorts. Like a beautiful puzzle that I loved to try and piece together, even though I could never get it quite right.

Though, while you still occupy my mind endlessly, I can at least feel like I can breathe again. I found someone new, and she’s great. Not you, but still great. She tells me I look healthier now than when we first met, and she takes the credit for it. I don’t think I believe that she’s the culprit, but I’ll let her believe it. It makes me laugh, at least, and she does, too. I like when she laughs. She reminds me a little bit of you when she does. It’s curious, I think, that she can make me so happy on her own, but that I still cling to every time she acts like you. I feel guilty about it most days. She probably doesn’t deserve it.

But, I can’t help that I still think of you and try to find you in everything. You’re like a ghost haunting me. I’ve always been a skeptic of the supernatural, but you seem to have made me a believer. I wonder if you ever feel the same about me. That somehow you’re searching for that same rainbow of colors I saw when we were together, or that mayb’

“Spencer?”

I dropped my pen, my hand coming down to rest on the piece of paper on my desk as if she could see what I was writing from her vantage point. I looked up at the girl on my couch as she had just woken from a nap. She stared back a me curiously.

“Everything okay?” she inquired.

I nodded quickly. “Fine. Why?”

“You just looked really… In your head.”

“I usually am,” I offered with a tight-lipped smile.

She snorted a laugh, nodding along as she sat up fully. She rested her head on her arms as she looked over the back of the couch at me.

“Well, we have dinner reservations soon. You could probably use a shower.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” I nodded, standing from my desk.

She followed suit, standing and disappearing into my bedroom to get ready. I looked down at the letter on my desk, picking it up and observing my own writing for a few moments. My handwriting was a little messy. I let out a deep sigh, crumpling the letter into a ball and tossing it into the fireplace.

I thought back frequently on how it all ended.

We were sitting on my couch one afternoon. I still remember light in my eyes from the afternoon sun. At my love’s suggestion, we kept the curtains open all day, and the windows open every time the weather allowed it. It was nice. The fresh air coming in always made everything feel good somehow. The smell of the wind coming in was always welcomed. Especially on days like that one, in mid-spring as temperatures rose and the air was crisp and the sun always seemed to peak through the clouds. I always felt that way when we were together. It’s how I knew something was wrong that morning.

Our biggest argument started not long after breakfast. I didn’t want to talk about it when tensions started rising, but I should have known that that was a big part of the problem. I never wanted to talk about the hard things. Why would I? Things felt so good when we were together. Why bring up anything negative when we could bask in the sunshine together? It seemed silly.

Though, to be fair, everyone is a fool in love. I thought I’d be immune to it. I wasn’t usually stupid. But those eyes looking at me, and those hands touching me… It was no surprise I couldn’t think straight. I could have been the dullest man on earth, and I wouldn’t have cared.

So, we sat on my couch. Basking in the afterglow of an argument. Our fire had grown out of control, and there I was without any water. Foolish.

I turned when I heard a sigh next to me, and part of my heart broke when I saw tears glistening in that afternoon sunlight. But I didn’t offer comfort. I didn’t even find myself speaking for once in my life. Foolish.

I didn’t move from the couch until it got dark. I didn’t get up when I heard the rustling of clothes getting tossed into a bag. I didn’t even turn around when I heard footsteps going towards the door. I didn’t know what to do, so I did nothing. Foolish.

I guess part of me thought we just needed a little bit of space. I was certain we’d find our way back together within a week. Surely, we couldn’t stay apart for long. That was a ridiculous notion. Everyone knew we would end up growing old together. One fight couldn’t possibly be the reason for our downfall. But it wasn’t one fight that did it.

It was every time I refused to talk. It was every time one of us was too stubborn to back down from an argument. It was everything that led up to that fight that did us in for good.

The last time we spoke was to make sure I wasn’t holding onto anything in the apartment that wasn’t mine. I wished I could have. Pretending I wasn’t alone was easier when the apartment was still full of memories that weren’t just mine.

But weeks of not talking after that turned into months. The only updates I got came from mutual friends, and they didn’t exactly want to talk to me about my ex every time we got together. I can’t say that I would have minded it, though. I wished endlessly I could still remember the smell on my pillow that disappeared long ago, but my memory faded.

And, eventually, someone else’s head laid there instead.

READER POV

I thought back frequently on how it all started.

I didn’t usually agree to blind dates. I thought they were bizarre. Why agree to meet a perfect stranger when I was more than content on my own? Sometimes part of me wishes I’d never agreed in the first place. But, then, I don’t know who I’d be now if I hadn’t met Spencer. He had shifted the entire world on its axis with nothing but a shy smile and shaggy hair falling in his face as he greeted me the first time.

He expressed quickly that also wasn’t usually one for blind dates, but that a coworker of his practically made him go for it. At the time I thought it sounded pushy, but shortly after meeting Derek it all started to make sense.

“So we finally meet,” he said, flashing me a million dollar smile.

“I’ve heard a lot about you,” I mentioned with a smile as I reached to shake his hand.

He took my hand, chuckling slightly as he gave Spencer a glance and a look I couldn’t quite decipher.

“I’m sure I’ve heard just as much about you. I’ve never seen pretty boy so infatuated.”

Spencer blushed hard. I merely reached for his hand, interlocking our fingers with a smile.

Though, as much as Derek made sense, a lot of other things didn’t. Our relationship didn’t quite seem like a good fit, for example. I didn’t think we’d last. He was seemingly so mild-mannered at first, but together it was like a whirlwind that would sweep us off our feet. I couldn’t envision it going well for more than a week, but he convinced me easily with that same sweet smile. He was always easy to give into.

“I just don’t know—”

“Please,” he said, cutting me off.

I looked into those big, pretty eyes of his. How could I deny him?

“Are you sure about this?”

He nodded. “I’ve never been more sure about anything.”

That was the spark, and soon we were tumbling down into something magical at breakneck speeds. Wondrous and stupid and beautiful and thrilling and irresponsible. Expiration dates be damned.

The touch of his hand alone could give me a buzz that no other substance could manage, and I know that my influence was the same on him. It showed every time he looked at me as if I hung the stars while my fingertips traced patterns against his chest. Every time he gave me a soft smile after a particularly passionate kiss when he got home from a case. Every time I brushed the hair out of his face as he rested his head against my chest.

We were utterly in love and too wrapped up in each other to see that it was doomed from the start.

‘Spencer,

It’s been a while, I know. I’m sorry to do this to you out of the blue, but I’ve been thinking a lot lately. Mostly about you. It’s ridiculous, really.

I know you found someone else, and I’m happy for you. Really. I’ve got to admit, though, that it sucks to see you doing so well with another girl. I’ve worked through a lot of those feelings, but some of them still linger. I hate thinking about anyone else having you. Lucky for me, Penelope has stuck around after the breakup, and she’s a wonderful listener. Gosh, I say that like you don’t already know. Anyway, I don’t want to cause problems, so if you don’t reply to this I wont take any offense. I know you have different priorities now. It sucks things had to end how they did. And that’s putting it really lightly.

I still dream about you sometimes. I thought it would end at some point, but it just isn’t right now. It’s weird. I’ve never had someone effect me like this before, and I’m not sure what to do about it. It feels like phantom limb syndrome. Part of me is missing, and I know it’s gone, but it still feels like it’s there somehow. I don’t know. I guess I’m just reaching out because’

I stopped typing at that. Because…?

Because what? Why am I doing this? Really?

I swallowed, looking at all I’d written so far. It was all truthful, that’s for certain. But why send it to him? What would that accomplish?

I hovered my thumb over the button for a moment, then pressed down. I didn’t let up until the whole text was erased. I looked at the empty text box, and the last messages that were sent months ago. Plans for when I was going to retrieve my things from his apartment.

I closed out of the app a moment later, tossing the device on my coffee table. I closed my eyes and let myself drift off to a world where he was still around.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x gn!reader #spencer reid reader insert #gender neutral reader #luna’s spence fics

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beastofburdenxo · 10 months ago

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A Familiar Pain

You start your period in Emmett's bed, and he takes care of you. No smut, just a small mention of blood. First fic of the year!! 774 words. @your-nanas-house

You had woken up to familiar stomach pain and cursed yourself for not being more prepared. To make things worse, you weren’t even in your bed; you had spent the night with Emmett. You raised the covers to see the unwelcome blood all over his sheets. You wanted to cry right then and there. Would Emmett be mad? “Well good morning sweetheart.” he says, rolling over to face you and giving you a kiss. “What’s wrong?” he asks, noticing the look on your face. “I’m sorry Emmett, please don’t be mad...” He raises the cover to see what you are apologizing for. “Oh sweetie, it’s okay. Don’t apologize, I'm not mad. Let's get you cleaned up, yeah? Let me take care of it.” Emmett gets out of bed, and you hear him running a warm bath for you. “Come on, in the bath you go.” He scoops you up in his arms and takes you to the bathroom. You want to hide in shame as he helps you undress and sits you in the tub. “There you go sweetie,” he coos, “You’ll feel better once you get clean. The nice warm water should help with your pain too. My poor baby.” Your eyes fill with tears at his gentleness. “Don’t cry.” Emmett sits on the edge of the tub and washes your back for you. “I’m an adult, and I know you can’t always predict these things. I figured it would happen sooner or later. Now sit and relax, I'll take your clothes and the sheets and wash them, okay? Don’t worry about a thing I got it.”

Emmett strips the bed and puts everything in the washing machine while you soak in the tub. He comes back with a pair of his shorts and a shirt, “Just until everything is good and dry.” You smile at his kindness towards the situation. “Thank you, you didn’t have to do all this. I should know better; I've been at this for years.” Emmett chuckles as he holds up a towel and wraps you up in it. “Being mad and throwing a fit doesn’t help a thing. I know it wasn’t on purpose. Besides, it’s what I'm here for; to take care of you and make things easier.” After fixing yourself up you go to the living room while Emmett checks on the laundry. “You look miserable sweetheart.” he tells you as you're sprawled out on the couch, “Anything I can do for my girl?” You look over at him, not wanting to be any more of a bother than you already are. “No.” you reply with hesitation. Of course, Emmett picks up on it. “Don’t give me that, you are in pain. I can see it. What do you need from me?” With a sigh you answer, “Will you come and rub my belly please? Your hands are always so warm, maybe give a little pressure?”

Without a second thought, Emmett has you in his lap. You both are leaning back on the couch, your back to his chest. He takes his big hands and gently puts them underneath your shirt, right where you need it. Your eyes close at the warmth. His hands are like your own personal heating pads. “Like that, beautiful? Your tummy is so bloated, bless your little heart. I can’t believe you go through this every month. I'd be crying by now.” You lean over and nuzzle his arm. “Yes Emmett, thank you. You are always so good to me.” He slowly starts to rub your poor tummy, giving the slight pressure you asked for. “You deserve it sweetheart; you are so good to me as well. How about I fix the bed up and we take a little nap? I’ll even let you keep my hands.” You give a smile in response as he gently moves you off him. An unknown amount of time passes, as you almost drift off to sleep on the couch. Emmett picks you back up, “Come on, back to bed for you. We’ll take a little nap, and when we wake, I'll fix us something to eat. You’re choice.”

Emmett gently places you in the bed, sheets nice and cozy warm from the dryer. “Come here, lovely, let me squeeze you some more.” You fall into his arms as his hands go back to their previous location. “I’ve got you; get some rest. I’ll be right here when you wake.” Between his lovely massage and the clean sheets, your eyes can’t help but close. The pain a faint memory as you wonder what you did to deserve a man like Emmett.

#emmett quiet place #emmett a quiet place #emmett x fem reader #a quiet place 2 #emmett fanfiction #cillian murphy

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kingofpopmj · 8 months ago

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Conscious Decision

Part 3

July 15th, 1988

*Y/N’s POV*

Katherine and I spent the day together exploring London. She suggested we do some shopping before having lunch. Of course the moment she pulled me into a bridal boutique I knew she had an ulterior motive.

“This would look stunning on you!” Katherine complimented as she pointed out the gown on display.

“Mama Kay, that’s a wedding dress.”

“You should try it on.” She cheered. “It’ll be fun!”

“It’s beautiful but I think I’m going to pass on that.” I laughed off her comment.

“Michael was looking for you last night. He did not buy the jet lagged excuse.”

“Well, I’ll see him tonight.” I said as I guided her towards the exit.

“He fired Tatiana.” She said nonchalantly.

“What?”

“She’s a sweet girl but her crush on Michael was getting out of hand. My poor boy was so embarrassed. He had no idea she would do that.”

“Is he okay?”

“I think seeing his best friend would have helped.”

“Oh you’re making me feel bad on purpose!”

“You’re always the first person he runs to when something goes wrong. Yesterday, however, was the first time you weren’t there. It did a real number on him.”

“I’m sure he’s fine.”

“My boy is experiencing the beginning stages of losing the woman he loves. He is in no way shape or form fine.”

“He doesn’t love me in that way and he’s not losing me. I just needed a break to be alone and avoid any further damage to our friendship. I didn’t mean for my actions to come off as selfish. I’m sorry.”

“Here we go again with all the friendship hoopla.” Katherine rolled her eyes shaking her head. “You are not just friends—”

“We almost kissed. On opening night.” I blurted out. “He ran away from me and hid from everyone.”

“Oh, I see.”

“That’s why I said I think we were wrong.”

“I’m never wrong.” She said sternly ignoring my confession. I couldn’t help but laugh at her stubbornness.

“Y/N! There you are!” Michael shouted standing from his make-up chair. “Finally!”

“Your mom and I had a girls day.” I smiled hugging him. He kindly asked for the room and his entourage dispersed.

“How is the jet lag?” He asked suspiciously.

“I’m fine. I just need some rest.”

“You didn’t even stay for our after show ritual.”

“Michael—”

“It’s tradition!” He spoke over me. “Why did you leave?”

“I didn’t feel well.” It was partly true. He continued to study my demeanor.

“Tatiana.” He stated. “I didn’t— she wasn’t supposed to do that. I’ve never been so humiliated in my life.”

“I’m really sorry that happened. You didn’t deserve it.”

“You know... every love song I write is about you.” He muttered.

“What?” I stared at him but he didn’t repeat himself. He closed the gap between us pulling me into his chest.

Each time the wind blows

I hear your voice so

I call your name

Whispers at morning

Our love is dawning

Heaven's glad you came

You know how I feel

This thing can't go wrong

I'm so proud to say I love you

Your love's got me high

I long to get by

This time is forever

Love is the answer

Michael softly sung into my ear as he swayed us back and forth. He held me for a moment longer before leaving a lingering kiss on my temple.

“Michael?” I spoke gently.

“I have to finish getting ready. Can you help with my hair? You’re the only one that does it the way I like.” He smiled pulling me across the room to his vanity.

I watched him as he excitedly gathered all the tools and products I would need. Every time I think we’re on the same page he throws a curveball. It makes it even worse that he just changes the subject as if nothing happened. As I began styling Michael’s hair my mind drifted off to how he makes me feel. When he holds me like that it’s impossible to hide my emotions. Michael is my home. When he holds me I feel complete. He’s the only person I truly feel safe with.

“I love hearing you sing.” I said as I fixed his hair.

“Thank you.”

“I love that song. It’s really beautiful.”

“It’s one of my favorites. It’s like it was in my head my whole life and all I needed to do was write it down.” he met my gaze through the mirror. “It’s inspiring being in love.”

“In love?” I broke our eye contact and tried to focus on his hair. “That’s sweet.”

“Are you in love?”

“Michael—”

“Because I think you are.” He turned to me placing his hands on my hips. “Please tell me that you are.” He stared at me expectantly as he rises from his seat.

Here we are again.

Our chests became connected as I felt his fingers slip under the hem of my shirt leaving a strong tingling feeling along my hips. We were admiring each other’s lips and yearning for what came next.

“I am.” I finally spoke.

“Y/N, I—” there was a loud obnoxious knock on the door as it swung open.

“Oh—oh— I—I’m so sorry” Greg stood there with an apologetic look on his face. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“It’s okay.” Michael said. “What is it?”

“Princess Diana is on her way. They want us all in place for her arrival.”

Michael looked at me and I gave him a nod. He looked nervous as his lips met my cheek and he hugged me tightly.

“We will talk later.” He stated hopefully as he moved towards the door.

“I’m so sorry.” Greg mouthed before closing the door leaving me alone.

“This next song is very special to me. It comes from my heart.” Michael spoke as the lights began to dim. “I’m going to perform it a little differently tonight. I hope you don’t mind.” His beautiful voice filled the stadium.

I just want to lay next to you for a while

You look so beautiful tonight

Your eyes are so lovely

Your mouth is so sweet

A lot of people misunderstand me

That's because they don't know me at all

I just want to touch you

And hold you

I need you, God I need you

I love you so much

Michael’s intimate intro to ‘I Just Can’t Stop Loving You’ caused chills to travel down my spine. The longer I kept my eyes on him the more I thought about our moment in his dressing room earlier. There was so much emotion behind it. I just wanted to know what he was thinking. I took a moment to look out into the full stadium. The audience was lit up with thousands of lighters hovering over the sea of fans.

Wow.

We all gathered backstage after the show to celebrate. I didn’t realize how many people would be here or how loud it was going to get. Nonetheless, I was really enjoying myself, I was sitting with the band when everyone suddenly went silent. I followed their stare and saw the man of the hour.

“Dance with me.” Michael held his hand out and I gladly accepted.

“You’re my favorite dance partner.”

My comment went unnoticed as Michael stared off. His grip on me tightened as we danced in silence. He placed my arms further around his neck pulling me closer to him. Two songs went by without a word from him.

“Michael?” I poked his cheek getting his attention. “What’s going on up there?”

“Nothing.” He spat. He never snapped at me. It made me feel awful. His coldness triggered me deeply making me feel insignificant.

“What’s your problem?”

“I asked you to dance with me why do you feel the need to pester me.” I stepped away immediately looking at him as if he was a stranger. “Y/N—” he said softly reaching for my hand.

“You’re being so ugly to me.” I shook my head walking away leaving him standing alone. I shoved the dressing room door open swiftly gathering my belongings.

“Jet lagged again.” I heard Michael’s mocking voice behind me.

“No actually at the moment I’m extremely fed up with you.”

“Me?”

“Yes you!” I pointed at him as my vision became blurry. “Why would you ask me to dance just to speak to me like that? You’ve never treated me like that before.”

“No! I wanted to dance with you because- I just- some of the guys from the crew were talking about you. I couldn’t- I tried to keep my cool but they were saying— I didn’t like it—”

“Wait.” I wiped my eyes. “You asked me to dance so no one else could?”

“I—” he was frozen in place and I felt myself begin to tremble from how angry I was.

“You know what Michael. How about you figure out what you want because I can’t handle this anymore. One minute you’re serenading me asking me if I’m in love and the next you’re acting like this. You keep saying all these things and I have no idea how I’m supposed to take them because you never explain. It feels like you’re toying with me and it isn’t fair. Do you know how terrifying it is to be in love? The thought of losing that person destroys you because he’s one of the most important people in your life. Every time he gives you a shred of hope that he may feel the same he disregards it just as quickly- and it doesn’t even matter because to me- to me he is everything. He’s my everything. This back and forth is- it’s mentally exhausting Michael, but I’m still here.” I frantically caught my breath, Michael’s wide eyes brought me to the realization that I said way too much. He remained silent. I wanted to evaporate. Silence. I just shook my head brushing past him.

Nothing was going to be the same ever again.

July 16th, 1988

A bright golden beam of sunlight streamed through the curtains seeping through my eyelids. I sighed pulling a pillow over my face. It’s too early for this. The events of the last two days begin running through my mind as I closed my eyes. I’m a complete mess. If I could stay in bed all day I would. Michael was giving me so many mixed signals but, after last night, I’m afraid he may never speak to me again. I sat up throwing the pillow across the room with force.

“You weren’t aiming for me right?” My head snapped to the side to see Michael standing in front of the window looking out at the London sky.

“Michael!” I yelled pulling the comforter up to cover my pajamas.

“I brought us breakfast.”

“How did you get in here?”

“French toast! Your favorite..” he sang placing the take out trays on the table.

“How long were you watching me sleep?”

“I got extra syrup and fresh strawberries.” He danced taking a big bite of a strawberry.

“You scared me! Why are you here this early?”

“I knew the only way you’d listen to me is if I showed up unannounced and brought food.” A smile spread across his face. “Come on sit.”

“Give me a minute.” I sprinted to the bathroom and softly shut the door behind me. I brush my teeth and wash my face but my nerves are still through the roof. Michael’s here in my room acting suspiciously normal. I focused on my breathing as I walked out back into the room.

“My mom.” He stated as I took the seat across from him.

“What?”

“She had a spare key. I was just answering your earlier question.”

“Oh, then yes.” I smiled taking a bite.

“Yes?”

“I was aiming for you.” I answered sticking my tongue out.

“Ha. Ha. Ha. I have a comedian for a best friend folks!” He announced to an imaginary crowd.

“What would you like to talk to me about?” I asked laughing.

“I need you to promise me something first.”

“What is that?”

“I need you to let me say everything I need to say to you without interrupting me.”

“Is everything okay?” His tone beginning to make me nervous.

“I’ll explain everything.”

“I promise. No interrupting.” I held my hand up letting him know I took the oath seriously.

“Well, I want to thank you for visiting me. It’s the sweetest thing anyone has done for me in a long time. This tour has been incredible, but I have missed you very much. It’s just- everything is better when you’re around.” He slid his hand onto the table slowing inching it towards me. He gave me a small smile and I knew exactly what he wanted, so I placed my hand in his. “I know I’ve been all over the place and I’m sorry. It’s just- it’s such a tough situation. I would never intentionally toy with your feelings. I know that’s why you were avoiding me. I understand why and it’s okay. It was just for a few hours but knowing you didn’t want to see me was the worst feeling in the world.”

“I’ve kept something from you for a few years now because I truly believed it was for the best. It was easier when we were kids. We didn’t have to worry or stress. Once I got to the age where I understood my feelings it became more difficult, but not impossible. I told myself it was better to have you as my best friend than not have you at all. I wanted you in my life. I need you and I hate the idea of my feelings ruining our friendship. Then, my career took this incredible albeit insane turn. All the hard work, struggle and pain of my childhood was finally paying off, but it came at a cost. I’m constantly ridiculed, bullied and betrayed. They all misunderstand me because they don’t know me. I’m just a punchline to them.” He places his hand over his eyes leaning his elbow on the table in attempt to conceal his watery eyes. “I knew I had to protect you from this world. The media attacking you. The paparazzi stalking you. I couldn’t bear leaving you vulnerable to it all. There has always been an excuse. And they all seemed like great excuses. It wasn’t until yesterday that I realized it was fear holding me back. The fear of losing you, but let’s face it you aren’t going anywhere and neither am I. Y/N, there is nothing in this world that is worth keeping my distance from you.” His hand fell from his face and landed over mine.

“Y/N, I could never close my heart to you because it’s yours. It has always been yours.”

“I’m terrified but I think- I hope you want this too. I hope you want me— us.”

“I know what happened opening night hurt you. I know because if I had to watch some schmuck kiss you… or dance with you…” he paused his rant shifting in his seat “I would loose my mind. It would break me.” He squeezed his eyes shut softly shaking his head back and forth. “I could feel your pain. I could feel the ache in your heart. I could feel your tears. It was unbearable. I never want to be the cause of it again. Ever.”

“The reality is if we become more it will change your life in an instant. I pray that you feel I’m worth it as much as I feel you are. I know you are. It won’t be easy, but I vow to do everything in my power to keep any harm from coming to you. I will always protect you.”

“Lovely, in all the ways I’ve pictured my life, you are always in it. You and I are inevitable. We are predestined. It’s in the stars. Everything in me chooses you. You are it. You’re the dream of all dreams. You’re my dream come true. I love you. I love you infinitely.”

Michael’s shoulders relaxed as he let out a deep sigh. He stood up and pulled his chair over to sit beside me. I couldn’t take my eyes off him. My Michael.

“I um- that was probably too much to throw at you all at once. Goodness it’s hot in here.” He started playing with his hair and I knew he was panicking.

“Can I talk now?” I whispered. He hesitantly nodded.

“Michael, please look at me.” His eyes were closed and he shook his head no. “Michael.”

He didn’t move and I could tell he thought I was going to reject him. My hands landed on his broad shoulders, his eyes still closed as I ever so gently turned him towards me. I tried to focus on my breathing as my hands traveled to the back of his neck. My fingers running through his curls. I took a brief moment to catch my breath before I leaned in.

As our lips met, a strong bolt of electricity ran through my body. I felt his hands tenderly cup my face as he deepened the kiss, his lips moving against mine with a gentle urgency. In that moment, nothing else mattered - no excuses - no fears.

Surprisingly, the thought of being pressed up against Michael never crossed my mind, but now that it was happening, I didn’t want it to end. Michael’s hands were strong as he affectionately caressed my body. Our lips slightly parted - our breathing heavy - our gazes falling onto one another. Michael didn’t waste time letting his eyes travel. His breath hitched as he lustfully scanned my legs on either side of his hips.

“Oh lovely.” He quickly caught my lips again gripping the back of my thighs. He stood up carrying me with ease as he moved over to the bed.

I felt the plush mattress form to the curves of my body as Michael hovered over me leaving sweet kisses across my collarbone.

“I love you Y/N” he mumbled against my skin with each kiss.

“My entire life...” he stopped and adjusted himself to look into my eyes. “My whole life I’ve been completely in love with you.” The corners of his lips curved up and he buried his face into my neck. “Michael, I love you with my whole heart.”

“Please don’t let this be a dream.” Michael pleaded.

“This is real.” I smiled finding his lips again. “This is happening.”

“Y/N?” He said against my lips.

“Yes Michael?”

“Can I take you on a date? A real date. Just the two of us. Tonight after the show.” He moved to the space next to me as we both shifted laying on our sides to face each other.

“I would love that.”

“I want to kiss you forever.”

“I would love that.” I repeated flirtatiously.

“My girl.” He smiled leaning his forehead against mine. “You’re my girl..”

“Oh I am?” I teased.

“I would like you to be mine. Do you want to be my girl?”

“Hmmm.. let me think.”

Michael began singing and my heart melted further with each lyric.

You know how I feel

I won't stop until

I hear your voice saying

"I do"

Michael watched me intently waiting for my answer. He leaned closer and I smiled kissing him deeply “I do” I said against his lips.

This thing can't go wrong

This feeling's so strong

Well, my life ain't worth living

If I can't be with you

I just can't stop loving you

And if I stop

Then tell me, just what will I do

I just can't stop loving you

There it is part 3!!!

Ahhhhh! Maybe part 4?

I hope you all enjoyed this rollercoaster lol

Let me know what you think. Also, should I put together a tag list?

#michael jackson #michael joseph jackson #michael jackson imagine #michael jackson x reader #king of pop #bad era #bad tour

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bradshawsbaby · 2 years ago

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the christmas gift

pairing: rhett abbott x wife!reader

author’s note: based on this adorable anonymous prompt about telling rhett you’re expecting!

lots of love to all the rhett sister wives out there, and all of you who have made me feel so welcome in the rhett abbott fan club™️

warnings: pregnancy and tooth-rotting fluff

“Want to know the first thing I’m doing when we get home?” you asked with a grin, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled between you and your husband as you drove home through the gently falling snow.

“What’s that?” Rhett asked, the corner of his mouth quirking up into a smile. He took his eyes off the road for the briefest of seconds to glance down at where you were sitting curled up against his side in the cab of his truck.

“Putting on my Christmas jammies,” you laughed, resting your cheek against his shoulder and gazing out the window at the snow that swirled and danced in the bright beam of the headlights.

Rhett chuckled in response, and you could feel the vibrations of it coursing through your body.

“And you’re putting on yours, too, mister,” you informed him, poking him in the side with one very emphatic finger.

Your husband groaned in response, keeping his eyes fixed ahead on the dark winter road as he turned the wheel slightly in the direction of the cozy little cabin that awaited you, the one that you and Rhett had been turning into a home since the day you’d moved in.

“Honeybee, are you really gonna make me wear those itchy flannel pants with that damn button down shirt?” he demanded, feigning annoyance even as his indulgent smile told you that he’d gladly wear whatever you asked him to.

“Hey, you knew when you married me that you were in for a lifetime of matching Christmas pajamas, buddy. I don’t want to hear it,” you teased, nudging him playfully and giggling in open merriment.

“Yeah, yeah,” Rhett smirked, turning his head to drop a quick kiss to your forehead before locking his gaze on the road once more. “I don’t remember that coming up in the vows, y’know,” he added, turning the truck down the lane that led to home.

“Hmm, it was definitely in there,” you replied, tapping your chin as if in deep thought. “You must have been too blinded by my beauty and missed that part.”

“Well, now that is entirely possible,” he laughed, nodding his head slowly. “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll wear the damn itchy pajamas,” he assured you, grinning widely.

“That’s the spirit,” you giggled, pressing an affectionate kiss to his shoulder.

“And after the Christmas jammies? What then?” Rhett asked, arching a curious eyebrow.

“Well naturally I’m going to make us the biggest mugs of hot chocolate that I can,” you told him. “And then…maybe we can open a couple presents?” you hinted with a big smile, looking up at him with your best puppy dog eyes.

“Too impatient to wait for Christmas morning?” Rhett laughed, shaking his head as the truck bounced along the final stretch of road.

“It’s after midnight, so technically it is Christmas morning,” you countered, trying to make your case.

You and Rhett had spent Christmas Eve on the Abbott Ranch with his family, enjoying a nice dinner and getting the chance to exchange some small gifts with each other. You’d be back again for Christmas dinner, and Cecilia had even suggested the two of you spending the night, but Rhett had wanted to get home.

“Want to wake up on Christmas morning, just the two of us,” he’d whispered to you, peppering your cheek with kisses.

You wanted that, too. Especially with the gift you were planning on giving him this year. Smiling to yourself, you pressed a hand to your stomach and felt the familiar butterflies of anticipation.

Or maybe it was the flutterings of the new life that was growing within you, the one that you and Rhett had made together.

It had been so hard to keep this secret. You’d been desperate to tell him the minute you held that first positive test in your hand, but you knew you wanted it to be special. Rhett deserved for the moment he learned he was going to be a father to be a special one.

So you’d waited, albeit a little impatiently, for Christmas to arrive. And now it was finally here.

“Alright, honeybee, how about one present each before bed?” Rhett suggested, turning to look at you.

You’d been so caught up in your thoughts that you hadn’t even realized he’d pulled the truck up in front of the house and put it in park.

“Perfect,” you nodded with a grin. One present was all you needed.

Rhett smiled, pushing open his door. “Come on, let’s get inside before we freeze to death out here,” he murmured, sliding out of the truck and then reaching up to help pull you down from the driver’s side.

As soon as you were both inside, shaking the snow from your hair and coats and boots, you were shedding your outer layers and dropping them by the front door, hurrying upstairs with a childlike grin and a determined sense of purpose.

“I’m gonna start a fire,” Rhett called up to you as you stripped out of your clothes and changed into the soft, cozy pajamas you’d picked out over a month ago—the ones that were very much not itchy, no matter how your husband protested.

“Sounds good! I’ll be back down in a minute!” you called back.

Before stepping out of your bedroom, you took one quick glance in the mirror of your vanity, fixing your hair and wiping at the small smudge of lipstick at the corner of your mouth. Your lips had thankfully managed to maintain the red hue of your lipstick, even after the four-course Christmas Eve meal Cecilia had prepared. You knew it was silly, what with it only being you and Rhett, but you wanted everything to go perfectly.

By the time you made your way back downstairs, a toasty fire was blazing in the stone fireplace, and Rhett had turned on the lights on the Christmas tree, which cast a warm and festive glow over the living room.

“Here you go, cowboy,” you teased, tossing him the plaid Christmas pajamas that paired with yours.

He rolled his eyes playfully as he caught them. “Only because I love you so much, honeybee,” he told you, wagging a finger as he dropped them onto the couch and began stripping right there, in the middle of the living room.

The sight of your husband standing half-naked in front of the Christmas tree, the light from the fireplace painting his skin a soft golden hue, was one you knew you wouldn’t soon forget.

Clearing your throat, you nearly tripped over your own two feet as you began moving towards the kitchen. “I’m gonna go make that hot cocoa now,” you told him, the warmth rising to your cheeks having nothing to do with the heat of the cabin.

A few minutes later, as you stood over the stovetop whisking together milk, cocoa powder, and sugar, you felt a strong pair of arms wrap around you from behind and your husband’s lips pressed against your shoulder.

“Almost ready?” he mumbled in a low voice, nuzzling his cheek against yours.

“Who’s the impatient one now?” you laughed, tilting your head to the side as you stirred the hot chocolate in the saucepan so that Rhett could press soft kisses to your cheek and jawline.

“Well now you’ve got me excited for presents,” he smirked, nipping lightly at your throat.

Your stomach did a pleasant little flip at the thought of the gifts that were soon to be exchanged—one gift, in particular.

“Five more minutes,” you told him, smiling. “Go get settled and I’ll bring it in.”

“Don’t keep me waiting too long,” he whispered in your ear, pressing a kiss to the shell of it before reluctantly releasing you and heading back into the living room to put another log on the fire.

Five minutes later, as promised, you walked into the living room with two large, steaming mugs of hot cocoa in hand. Rhett rose immediately to take his from you, resting his hand on your lower back as he guided you to the chair near the tree.

“Alright, now it’s time for presents,” you announced with a giddy smile, settling comfortably into your chair and taking a sip of hot chocolate before setting your mug down.

“Remember, honeybee, just one each,” Rhett teased with a wink, bopping you on the nose with a finger as he reached down for one of the gifts that was sitting wrapped underneath the tree. “I’ll give you mine first,” he said, handing you a flat, square-shaped package and then sitting back eagerly on his heels.

You couldn’t help but smile at the excited look on his face as you unwrapped the present, which looked to be a jewelry box if the black velvet was any indication. You let out a surprised gasp as you opened it up and saw what lay inside.

“Baby!” you cried, carefully lifting up the delicate bracelet and admiring the way it caught the lights on the tree. The gold chain was simple and dainty and exactly what you had wanted. You hadn’t even realized Rhett had noticed you admiring it when you passed by the jewelry store in Laramie. “Oh, but it’s so expensive!”

“Doesn’t matter,” Rhett insisted, resting a hand on your thigh. “Do you like it?”

“Oh, honey, I love it! Thank you!” you exclaimed, throwing your arms around his neck. You kissed him soundly to show your appreciation, and then held up the bracelet again to stare at it some more.

“C’mere, let’s try it on then,” Rhett said, taking it from your hand and gently wrapping it around your wrist, dropping a tender kiss to your arm as he clasped it. “Beautiful,” he grinned, his gaze locking with yours.

“Thank you, baby,” you said again, reaching out to touch his cheek. “It’s just what I wanted.”

You hoped your gift for him was just what he wanted, too.

“Now it’s your turn to open a gift,” you told him, your heart suddenly beating much faster inside your chest. Rising from your chair, you ducked around behind the tree and picked up the box that you’d carefully packaged and wrapped just the other day, while Rhett had been busy working with Royal and Perry. “Here you go, baby,” you murmured, handing the gift to him.

Rhett smiled as he took it from you, waiting until you had settled back down in your seat.

“Hmm, I don’t know,” he smirked, shaking the box ever so slightly. “Feels kind of light,” he joked, his blue eyes crinkling in the corners as he laughed.

“Oh, shut up and open it,” you laughed in return, squeezing your hands between your legs to hide the fact that they were suddenly trembling.

Chuckling, Rhett tore off the wrapping paper and slowly opened the little box that was revealed beneath. Watching him carefully, you saw his face slowly transform as he took in the present that was resting on a bed of sparkly white tissue paper.

His mouth morphed from a teasing smile to a slack-jawed “O” and his blue eyes widened to the size of dinner plates as he stared down at the tiny knitted booties, designed to look like a pair of mini cowboy boots, that rested on his lap.

You noticed the way his throat tightened and convulsed before he said anything. “Baby,” he rasped, lifting one little bootie up into the air. It looked so tiny in his large hand. “Baby, does this—I mean, are you—”

“Merry Christmas, Daddy,” you whispered, tears brimming in your eyes. When he just continued to stare at you, wide-eyed, you felt your stomach do another little flip. “Are you happy?” you asked softly.

“Am I—am I—oh, God, honeybee,” he gasped, placing the baby bootie back into the box and laying it to the side as he launched himself up off the ground and pulled you into his arms. “Am I happy? I’ve never been happier in my life,” he told you, squeezing you tight and spinning you around.

When your feet finally touched the floor again, his lips were on yours, kissing you with a mix of tenderness and raw desire. He pulled back after a moment or two, brushing your hair back from your face with a look of such deep love in his eyes that you momentarily forgot what it was to breathe.

“I’m so happy,” Rhett whispered, his voice hoarse with emotion and thick with unshed tears. “This is—this is the best gift anyone has ever given me.”

You grinned, realizing out of the blue that your cheeks were wet, though you weren’t even sure when you had started crying. “Well, it’s a gift we sort of gave each other. So we can go halfsies on it,” you giggled softly.

Rhett laughed at that, brushing your tears away and kissing you gently. His hand brushed down your body until it was resting over your stomach, his gaze shifting downward.

“So there’s really a baby in there? Our baby?” he asked, almost in disbelief.

“That’s what they tell me,” you laughed, resting your hand over his.

Beaming, Rhett knelt down reverently in front of you, pressing a loving kiss to your stomach through the fabric of the Christmas pajamas he’d teased you so mercilessly over. “Hey there,” he whispered, resting his cheek against your belly as you ran your fingers through his soft, honey-colored hair. “I’m your daddy. It’s nice to meet you.”

You laughed softly, your heart bursting with joy as you gazed down at him.

Rhett looked up at you and winked before adding, “Enjoy your time in there, little one. Come next year, your mama’s gonna make you wear some horrible pair of Christmas pajamas.”

He laughed loudly when you swatted the back of his head.

Rising back up, Rhett wrapped his arms around you and held you close to his chest, dropping a kiss to your forehead before resting his chin atop your head.

“I love you so much,” he breathed out, his hands warm and comforting as they held you tightly. “Merry Christmas, honeybee.”

#rhett abbott #rhett abbott x reader #rhett x reader #x reader #x female reader #outer range #lewis pullman

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beebotea · 1 year ago

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☁️ ˖⁺ lonely together — geto suguru

pairing: geto x gn!reader genre: fluff, a smidge of angst word count: 1.8k cw: post hidden inventory arc, reader is referred to as “darling”, morally gray reader, slightly suggestive joke at the end (idk geto insinuates u shower tgt), geto calls non-sorcerers monkeys i.e.: “i can fix him.” nah. he's perfect as he is

“so if youre lonely, no need to show me. if youre lonely, come be lonely with me.”

“suguru!”

you called out from the bottom of the hill, staring up at the entrance to the temple you had seen pictures of in yaga’s office. a board filled with pins and red rope connecting to other pictures related to geto suguru’s disappearance.

the man dressed in monk’s clothing with cascading raven hair done into a half-do stopped and turned towards you.

you noticed how his eyes widened upon seeing you. he looked healthier since you last saw him.

“suguru! did you sleep well last night?”

“it was enough. shouldnt you be preparing for your mission?”

“suguru! i got us some snacks from the bakery on the way home! do you want to try them with me and gojo?”

“no, it’s alright. im going to take a shower and rest in my room. you two go ahead without me.”

“suguru! i havent seen you in days, come out of your room, please? i miss you. everything’s been so boring lately…”

“im a bit tired. i have a mission tomorrow morning. goodnight.”

“suguru. tell me whats wrong… you havent hugged or kissed or even looked at me in weeks.”

“i dont really want to talk about it right now. i need to go soon, y/n.”

“be safe.”

“suguru? so it’s true?”

“it is.”

“youre leaving us?”

“i have to. dont you think we, those who are gifted, deserve more than the reality we live in?”

“what?”

“i want to thank you for worrying about me all this time and trying to make me feel better. i’ll miss you, goodbye, y/n.”

you remember returning to your dorm that day in a daze, tears long dried during your walk home, pondering his last words to you. apparently he’d been a lot more harsh on satoru than with you or shoko in his parting words.

you wanted to hate him for leaving you and everyone behind as if none of it ever mattered. as if everything he’d said to you in the past few years was a lie.

it had always been the four of you. but now, more than ever, you felt alone. you, satoru, and shoko all had a void that no amount of cigarettes or alcohol could fill. nothing could make you forget how warm the world used to be. how beautifully the moon used to glow. how bright the stars used to shine. now, all you could see was the vast darkness in between.

although your time was spent with two others as often as you could make possible, you felt inexplicably lonely.

we deserve more?

for the first few months, you were convinced he’d gone crazy, lost his mind, didn’t know what he was thinking.

but the more missions you took and the more casualties you witnessed, you started to understand what he meant. jujutsu sorcerers walk on a thin sheet of ice separating them from life and death. all the work they do and all the sacrifices they make for nothing more than monetary compensation.

we must protect those who cant protect themselves, satoru had said. but who was there to protect us? you thought in rebuttal.

haibara yu was only 17 when he passed. amanai riko was 14 when she was assassinated. gojo and geto were 18 when they were hunted and barely survived.

was it really all that worth it?

you remembered walking through the next few months of your last year in high school barely responding—as if it all went by in a blur.

nanami dropping out of jujutsu high, gojo mastering his domain expansion, shoko getting into medical school, you receiving your sorcerer’s license. did any of that mean anything if you all just died soon after?

the only thing you could recall clearly from your last year was bejng called to yaga’s office and offered a job as a teacher at the school.

you remember getting a glimpse of his board, filled with intel and pictures noting geto suguru’s activities. you recognized the temple and the trees surrounding it in a picture.

it was near your childhood home in the mountains where an old religious took base.

“i’ll have to decline, principal yaga.”

“dont get me wrong, you’ll still be sent on missions, you wont be cooped up here all the time. you’re a first-grade sorcerer after all—“

“really, principal yaga. i dont want to be a teacher here.”

“y/n?” suguru didnt take his eyes off of you as you bolted up the staircase, wrapping your arms around his shocked body.

“i missed you.” you smiled at him, feeling him instinctively wrap his arms around your waist as you pulled away.

“how did you find me?”

“i have my ways.”

he let out a gentle chuckle, one that youve been wanting to hear so badly for the last 14 months. “of course you do.” he tucked a strand if hair behind your ear, reminding you of the sweet and gentle young man you fell for in the beginning of high school. he took a moment to take in your appearance. he hadn’t seen you in so long and would be lying if he said he didnt miss you as well.

“i missed you too, y/n. why are you here?”

“well—”

“if youre here to convince me to come back. its not going to work.”

“wasnt really planning to.” you shrugged.

“oh?” he raised his brow, taken aback by your response. it was almost as if a weight was taken off his shoulders. it was hard enough to push you away once, a second time would probably break him entirely.

suguru couldnt help but let out a relived sigh, showing you the smile youve been dreaming of since he left. “so if youre not here for that, then i take it youre still sooo in love with me then arent you.”

“hey! im still mad at you, dont act all normal with me just yet.” you rolled your eyes, playfully swatting him on the shoulder. in all honesty you should be a lot more upset, livid perhaps, by the way he left it all behind. leaving your life without so much as saying ‘i love you’ or even sharing a kiss in the 3 weeks before his sudden rampage driven departure. but the thing was, your mind couldnt seem to care anymore. your tears and anger had long run out the first three months. your grieving had come to an end almost a year ago and now, you couldnt help but just be happy to see him again.

“right. im sorry.” he never took his eyes off of you as he spoke. “i didnt want to leave so abruptly like that. its just— i dont think i could stay in that world and continue to be happy.”

“i don’t completely understand what happened, suguru, but i know how you feel…” he nodded at your reply and began to guide you into the building.

“i wouldnt change anything even if i went back. except, maybe wait for you to come to the same realization. but believe me when i say this, ive always loved you. it just didnt feel right to say anything when i couldnt even love myself.” he said, holding your hand as the two of you walked through the traditional temple halls.

“was it lonely?”

“a little at first. but not so much anymore. ive found a new family and now with you by my side, i think i can finally call it complete.” he smiled at you, stopping by two large doors at the end of the hallway. “i want you to meet them.”

“theyre in there?” he nodded.

two months had passed since you arrived on the doorstep of his temple. two months for you to feel at home and with purpose beside your new family. two months was all it took for you to be completely by his side at all times, not that it was difficult. sure he was a bit more cruel and less kind to non-sorcerers than he had been in the past. but really, who was to blame him?

in any case, you knew that you fell in love with how he treated you and how he made you feel. him being relentlessly kind to others back then had only been a bonus, really. you couldnt care less about how he treated those ungrateful animals anymore anyways.

“y/n-san! geto-san said he’s too busy to take us to the shopping district right now! we really wanted to buy new shoes this weekend.” mimiko pouted at you, bursting into your room without knocking, barreling straight into your arms and sending the brush out of your grasp.

“cant you two wait a little bit longer? then all four of us can go to town together.” you opened your arm to welcome nanako as she dejectedly followed behind her sister.

“y/n’s right you two,” you looked up to see suguru standing at the doorway, fondly smiling at the spectacle before him. “i have maybe three more clients, a shower, and then i can take us all there, alright?”

the girls perked up at his voice, cheering and running over to him.

he took a step back from the running children and held his hands up to stop their advances. “no, no, dont get too close. i still have the monkey smell on me. i cant get you two dirty, now can i?” he looked back up to where you were sitting at the vanity. “y/n, dear.”

“yes, suguru?”

“would you like to help me with my last few clients? its awfully boring without you, you know.”

“do i have to?”

“well, if youre there then i mught be able to finish even earlier than expected and we’ll get to leave sooner too. right girls?” he winked at mimiko and nanako.

they excitedly nodded and begged for you to go with him. “yeah! please, y/n-san! we’ll be good while you’re helping out!”

“alright, alright, fine. i’ll go. but no playing on my phone alright? i bought you two plenty of nice books the last time we went out.”

“we promise!” they pushed you out of your own room and towards geto before slamming the door behind you.

suguru let out a soft chuckle as you walked towards his extended arm and linked your arm with his.

“hmph. using the girls against me. you play so dirty, suguru.”

“well how else would i get what i want darling? and besides, that just means you’ll have to rid of the monkey smell by taking a shower with me.”

“perv.”

the world you lived in had started to feel lonely. those worthy of suguru’s new world were few and far between compared to the vast population of animals surrounding you. but right now, your heart feels full. even if the world outside your paradise is bleak and lonely, the least it could do was to let you stay with your perfect family and be lonely together.

a/n: yeah best reality is when geto is happy and gojo is happy and everyone is happy because no one turned evil… but if evil why pretty? our boy can do no wrong!!

#beebotea*✲ﾟ*｡⋆ writes #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu geto #jjk x reader #suguru geto #jjk season 2 #geto suguru #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk #jjk geto #geto x reader #getou suguru x reader

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slusheeduck · 1 year ago

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Fictober23 Day 19 - Prompt: "Give me that, before anything happens." Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3

“Falerin, darling, the embroidery on your gloves is coming undone. It’s making me nervous.”

Falerin, bruised and battered after their most recent encounter with a set of Absolute cultists, looked over at Astarion, equally bruised and battered, as they returned to camp. He blinked. “Is this…really the time?” He shook his head. “I’ll just pull it out in the morning.”

“No, you will not.” Astarion’s hand was out, making a little grabby motion. “Just…give me that, before anything happens.”

Falerin sighed, rolling his eyes, but he handed them over. “Have fun. I’m going to go wash up.”

He did go wash up. By the time he returned to camp, his gloves’ embroidery was neatly restored, with a few holes darned up as well.

“Lae’zel, far be it from me to discourage showing more skin, but your shirt’s about thirty seconds from falling to pieces.”

Lae’zel whirled around at Astarion’s comment, eyes narrowed. “The target is just ahead. My shirt is immaterial.”

“Well, it’s nearly there.” Astarion held out his hand. “Let me fix it. It won’t take ten minutes, and you won’t be embarrassed when we do our good deed and you’re left in rags.” His fingers twitched in a silent give it here. “I’ll close my eyes if you’re feeling bashful.”

Lae’zel huffed and rolled her eyes, but she did stop long enough to shrug off her shirt and hand it over to Astarion. She watched as he pulled a needle, already threaded, from his pack, and settled down beside him to watch as he fixed it up.

“Why do you have that with you? It’s…unhelpful.”

“Perhaps to you,” he said, squinting as he lined up a large tear. “If I’m going to be killed by mind-flayers or goblins or cultists or what have you, I’m going to make sure I’m an exquisite corpse. Well, more than I am now, anyway. And I don’t want any of you bringing that legacy down because you look like a bunch of vagrants.”

True to his word, the shirt was fixed in under ten minutes. He held it back out to Lae’zel, who pulled it on. Her brows drew together.

“It’s…sturdier than I remember.”

“Well, part of that is because it was just barely hanging together. I reinforced the stitching along the arms.” He tucked the needle away and go to his feet. “Now that that’s done, let’s go hurt some people.”

Gale squinted at the pillow he’d picked up in the goblin camp. It…could do for Tara, if she came back around. A little threadbare, yes, but in decent enough condition.

“Looking at decorating?” Astarion drawled as he walked past. “I don’t think that really matches the rest of your décor.”

Gale sighed. “It’s for Tara. If she comes back—and I’m sure she will—I won’t hear the end of it if I make her sit in the grass.”

Astarion paused. “You’re getting…that for Tara? Are you trying to make her feel like a pauper?”

Gale huffed. “I don’t exactly have the luxury of stopping into a shop, do I?” He shook his head. “It’ll have to do.”

“It will not.” Astarion held out his hand. “Give it here.”

Gale looked over at him curiously, but shrugged. “If you can make it nicer, be my guest.”

The next morning, a “Gale, here” was all the warning the wizard got before getting a decorative pillow thrown directly at his face. He caught it after a slight fumble, then looked it over. It was the pillow he’d been looking at the night before, with a new lease on life from the look of it—the stitching had been reinforced and formerly threadbare flowers and vines restored. Most notably, though, was the large, flourished embroidery that read “Tara” in big letters along one side.

Gale blinked, bewildered. “That’s…thank you, Astarion, that’s surprisingly kind of you.”

Astarion scoffed. “It’s hardly kind. I did it because that’s what Tara deserves.”

“…you’re going to be here all week if you think that’s the best way to get stitching out.”

Shadowheart jumped, and she glanced back behind her at Astarion. She sighed, looking back down at the altar cloth in her hands. It was black and silky, with a mangled cluster of silver embroidery in the corner. She sighed.

“It used to have a prayer, down there,” she said quietly. “To the Lady of Sorrows. I really should just toss the whole thing out, but I…” She glanced over as Astarion held out his hand, fingers twitching. “Will…you throw it out for me?”

“Maybe.” He took the cloth from her, looking it over appraisingly. “Or maybe a black silk scarf will look terribly dashing on me. Either way, I’ll take care of it.”

Shadowheart gave a small nod, taking a breath. “I think I’ll go to bed. You can…do what you’d like with that.”

“Oh, I intend to. Good night, darling.” He sauntered off.

A few days later, as Shadowheart came out of her tent, she was greeted with her altar cloth neatly folded on a stool. The original embroidery had been removed without a trace, and instead of the expanse of black, a charming scene of a night sky had been embroidered into the silk, with a detailed moon hanging in the corner.

Astarion tried to ignore what he saw in the corner of his eye. He focused harder on his book, but the little brown blur in his peripheral didn’t go away. Not only that, but it got closer. Finally, he sighed and shut his book to look at the stuffed bear right beside his face. Behind it, Karlach wore a pleading expression.

“Asti?”

“You only call me that when you want something.” He clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes. “Did you rip him again?”

“His ear caught on my armor when we were moving camp.” She turned Clive’s head, showing an ear just barely hanging on to his head. “Can you…?”

Astarion rolled his eyes, then held out his hand. Clive was deposited, and Karlach waited in eager anticipation as he went into surgery. After a few deft stitches, Astarion snipped the thread, then looked him over.

“His leg’s a bit loose, give me a moment,” he murmured, going back in with his needle. Shortly after, Clive—good as new—was held out to the tiefling. “Be more careful with him.”

“You’re the best, Asti,” Karlach gushed, giving Clive a squeeze before heading back to her tent.

“Wyll, you are causing me physical pain. Stop.”

Wyll looked up from his work. The shoulder of his cloth armor had torn in their last tussle, and he was using their bit of downtime to stitch it back up. Across from him, Astarion was leaning forward, hand against his mouth and red eyes boring into the warlock.

“I’m…just trying to fix it up. I do this all the time.”

“And you’re using a whip stitch?” Astarion held out his hand. “Give it to me. I can’t bear anymore of this torture.”

Wyll hesitated. “You really don’t have to.”

“Oh, yes I do. I’m not saving the world with someone who’s dressed like a scarecrow.”

Wyll sighed, then handed the armor, needle, and thread over. He scooted a bit closer as Astarion got to work. “I’m surprised you’re so good with a needle and thread.”

“Well, if Cazador couldn’t be bothered to give me more than rats to eat, it shouldn’t be surprising that I was on my own to keep from wearing rags.” He squinted at the tear, then set to work; his stitches were so neat and small that they disappeared into the cloth. “Besides, two hundred years of imprisonment is a very long time, even for elves. You need a hobby if you’re going to get out with your sanity intact. Embroidery’s good for that.”

Wyll smiled. “Maybe you could make a nice living on that once we’re done. Set up a nice tailor shop.”

Astarion scoffed. “Go on the straight and narrow? Wyll, you’re adorable, but there’s plenty of unattended goods out there just begging to find their way into my pockets.” He finished up his stitching, giving the armor an experimental tug before he snapped off the thread. “There. Do try to be more careful, and for the gods’ sake, just bring it to me before you butcher your next piece of apparel.” Fictober 2023 Drabble Master Post

#fictober23 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #astarion #wyll ravengard #gale #shadowheart #lae'zel #karlach #clive the bear #Camp seamstress Astarion is canon I'll fight you on it

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